Caramel, Gold & Chocolate
by TerranDawn
Summary: My first attempt at fanfic. AU, but tried to stay true to characters. CxEs, and maybe others, later. Carlisle never leaves Columbus, OH, after treating Esme for her broken leg. Love and obsession keep him there. But is Esme in love, too? And if so, can they find their Happily Ever After? What will their future bring? Rated M for later content, if there ever will be. Up to you.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hello, all. This is my first attempt ever at writing fanfic. I have no experience in writing prose whatsoever, so constructive criticism is more than welcomed and appreciated.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, Eclipse, Breaking Dawn, Midnight Sun or any of the characters therein. I just fell in love with them, like everyone else.

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Chapter 1: A Proposal

I was watching her every breath, her every heartbeat, her every move.

Her heart beat frantically, from the pain of her broken leg, and from emotions just now surfacing in her too young heart.

Her breathing, shallow and rapid, as she swallows the pain, and her movement to hide her face as I worked on her.

This angel, this purest of souls that somehow the Lord Almighty saw fit to put upon the earth.

Who was I to rob this world of this pure soul? This beautiful girl, her beautiful eyes piercing me and searching into me, of her humanity? Who was I to rob the world of such a pure soul? Who is to say she was not meant for me? Had I not seen her blush as she watched me? Do I not see the love blossoming in her heart, rising to her eyes, as she searches me? She must have found whatever it was she was looking for in me, for her eyes softened even further, if such was possible, and filled with unshed tears.

Tears!

"Esmé, I am so sorry for hurting you so. Please, forgive me." I begged of her, as I endeavored to set her broken leg in a cast. I wanted to tell her that I was apologizing, not only for hurting her leg as I maneuvered it into the correct position to be set, that hurt would heal soon enough, but for the hurt I caused her as we both realized I could never have this angel, sitting beside me, biting her lip as I toiled to better her condition. I was trying to will her to understand with my eyes, but she would not look at me as she only said "Thank you, Dr. Cullen".

I was driven mad by the lack of eye contact, on the verge of committing the most terrible of sins - touching this angel's face with my stone-cold, monstrous hands. "Esmé, please, do not feel ashamed. Do not hide your pain. I will never judge you harshly for expressing your feelings. Never!" I vowed. She remains silent, watching me as I wrap her leg to stabilize the bones.

By the grace of God himself, her face tilts toward me ever so slightly, and I smile at her gently. If I still had a beating heart, it would have ceased its continuous action as I glimpsed the tears streaking down her gentle, young cheeks. How I longed to wipe those tears away with my fingers, to reassure her, to clutch her to my breast and keep her with me for all times.

But I was a monster. I was a cold-skinned monster, I reminded myself again and again. I would as well steal her virtue as her young, lusciously beating heart. As I swore to God to uphold his law in my heart, even as it no longer beats, I would do neither, I swore to myself. She must remain human and I must detach myself from her forever. I could never bear to watch her age and die, I knew, so it must, then, be forever.

As I finished stabilizing the broken bones of her injured leg, I asked, in what I hoped to God was a casual voice, to help remove the pain from her mind, "Esmé, how did you injure your leg so?"

She smiles at the memory of some past event, as she says, with tears still glistening in her eyes, "I was climbing a tree to watch the storm as it approaches."

To watch the storm. How many times have I done that myself, sitting atop a cliff, high in the trees, or just laying on the grass or earth, watching the stormy skies? It seems, then, we have something in common. I must dare and pursue this topic, then, fully.

I spoke to her more, increasingly amazed at the beautiful mind unfolding before me, falling deeper with every word her beautiful, luscious lips utter, every breath filling her chest, that I would never presume to watch, every beating of her heart as it pulsed the blood through her arteries in her neck.

It was time to take my leave, now, but how could I separate that which has been, at last, after over two centuries of waiting, been made whole? I was in love. This sixteen-year-old wondrous miracle has captured my heart in her chest, and there it rests, silent and unbeating, next to hers. I knew enough of vampiric nature to know that there it must remain, forever. Even as hers stops beating and she lays, silent for all times, in a grave.

That last thought spurred me into action, the pain inside my chest unbearable as I thought of her, cold and still, lying in a coffin. I arose, took my leave, and exited the house, leaving my heart, hopes and dreams with Esmé Anne Platt.

I walked away at human speed until I was deep enough in the wilderness to not be noticed by any beating heart. Then, I let go. I ran at my top speed until I reached my home for that time, entering the house, falling to my knees just behind the door. The pain was so encompassing, so consuming, that I could do nothing other than weep tearlessly at the separation. There I curled into a fetal position, sobbing at the pain, wishing it would go away, wishing my memories of her away, mumbling her name over and over again.

I screamed it as a prayer, I uttered it in worship, I whispered it with love, and as the morning dawned, I said it in acceptance. I knew, then, what I must do. I have become selfish. I have become disobedient to the Lord's word. I have become a sinner.

I arose, only to kneel at my father's cross and utter my confession in tearless cries… "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been three weeks since my last confession. I was never absolved nor will I ever be, but I wish to confess before the Lord Almighty again." I knew these sins, as well as my prior list of sins, would never be absolved. I would never be cleansed of them; I could only hope to do enough good on this earth to weigh my lengthening list of sins.

From thence I arose, renewed in my resolve to do but good on this earth, to heal, nurse and love all beings. I swore before the Lord that I would love them all as I love him, as I love my Esmé. Now, both kinds of love were all-encompassing, all-consuming and unrequited.

Or so I thought.

About a week after treating her, still obsessed and possessed by her image and voice, forever burned into my perfect mind, I was working yet another broken leg case on the other side of Columbus, OH. As far away from her as I could be without leaving town limit. The perfect compromise, as far as I was concerned. I could not bring myself to stray afar from the town and its farms, and I knew why. The sentence kept ringing in my mind, bones and soul – "That, which has been made whole, never again must be broken."

As I finished setting the broken leg, ignoring the patient's advances, I again reassured her. I must have slipped in speech, calling her Esmé, for she said "oh, Esmé feels better, and her leg seems on the mend. She was wondering if the Doctor might be kind enough to check up on her leg, if he is ever in the neighborhood."

I made a conscious effort to remain concentrated in what the lady was saying, being courteous, although my mind was already very far away, by now. On the other side of town, in a small farmhouse, in fact. I took my leave, anxious to remove all thoughts of Esmé Anne Platt from my head, and went for a hunt, my first these past 3 weeks. I have been letting my thirst go unchecked, confident in my control, but this was a chance to dislodge the girl from my thoughts altogether.

I, of course, failed miserably.

As soon as the hunt was done, I was strolling along, not minding where my feet were carrying me, and walking at a leisurely human pace, only to find myself standing outside the small farmhouse on the other side of town... The exact place I was attempting to avoid.

As I watched the dark home, I found myself scanning the dark rooms and the sleeping inhabitants thereof. I found Her window on the third unconscious attempt. I listened to her heart, her breathing, and the general slumbering noises of the entire house.

It is not my place to decide her fate, I know. But should she wish it – I will not deny her a thing. Not this accursed existence, not my money, nor my home, nor my love, nor my hand. I shall never deny her anything she wants.

I am Carlisle Cullen; I am a man of God, if not the Cloth. I am irrevocably and totally in love with Esmé. Esmé. Esmé. Her name kept ringing in my soul and mind for the rest of the night, as I listened to the sounds of the slumbering world around me, acutely aware of Her.

_As morning hews of sun swept fire caress your passionate face,_

_Alone with thee and pure desire to worship untold grace,_

_My soul would cry in silent prayer to hours swept apart_

_Your essence warms the evening air as I dance into your heart_1

I was reading poetry to her inside my mind.

_Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?  
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:  
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,  
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:  
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,  
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;  
And every fair from fair sometime declines,  
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;  
But thy eternal summer shall not fade  
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;  
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,  
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:  
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,  
So long lives this and this gives life to thee._2

I kept reading all the sonnets I remembered with my perfect vampiric recall.

As morning arose, did I, listening to the sounds as the world awakens to yet another day, neither brighter nor grayer than the one that did come before it. The world seemed brighter to me, as I came to a few understandings, this time, much more selfish.

I had to admit to myself the depth of my obsession with my love, my Esmé. I knew I could no longer keep away from her, hard as I may try. No distraction could prove strong enough against those memories of her. No amount of fawning over me by my female patients and nurses and midwives could dislodge the image of my Esmé's caramel locks and the luster in them as the light changed in the window and from the candles...

Those memories soon made room for the memories of her words, of the way she saw right through all my masks, straight to my core. "You are often lonely, are you not, Doctor?" she had asked, not expecting a response. I was shocked to my core by the jolt of her words, beyond any ability to respond. Oh, how now I wish I was able to respond to her, "Aye, but no more, my dearest love. No more will loneliness find a hold in my heart, never so long as I have thee to chase it away!"

I wanted nothing more than to wake Esmé up and tell her of all this. But I would let her sleep uninterrupted, for now. She must rest soundly tonight, as the morrow will bring with it great revelations, perhaps disturbing to her. It dawned on me I knew not her feelings toward me. I well knew my feelings for her, and how fast such come to be for vampires. I read love in her eyes, but was it only momentary lust? I was delusional to think she, the perfect human precious miracle she was, could ever feel that way for the accursed vampire I am.

Thus, by late morning, as I stayed hidden from human sight by her home, I was consumed by my self-doubt and pity.

I stood, rooted to my position, wishing to be near Esmé, but dreading the look in her eyes, fearing her words to me, and torn apart by the conflict as it consumed me.

"Courage, man!" I screamed at myself inwardly. I quickly arranged and put my appearance in order, wishing to look respectable as I came before my One and Only.

I moved swiftly, too fast for human eyes to glimpse, to the farthest point on the road still visible from the house, and from there I made my way, in a seemingly leisurely pace, to her home. I was using this self-allotted time to rehearse my words, my replies to anything and everything she may say, positive or negative. I was creating counter-arguments in case she refused me, to make her see reason, or at least my reason.

As I reached the house, as a man of repute, I approached her father first. He must from me hear my intentions for his daughter, before I make them known to her. "Good morrow, Master Platt, sir" I called to him from a short distance away. "And to you, Doctor Cullen, sir!" he answered me in his deep rusty voice.

"What brings you to us this fine morning, Doctor?" he asked.

"I have come to reassess young Esmé's leg's condition…" I started.

"Excellent! She is resting comfortably at the moment, keeping my wife company in the kitchen. I shall immediately send orders to have her moved to a more suitable location for you to examine her." He said, smiling broadly.

"I have one other matter to discuss with you, sir" I said, stumbling over the words.

"How may I be of service, Doctor?" he asked, probably not even considering what I was about to speak of. I hesitated. How to broach the subject? How best to get his approval?

"Well, Sir, this matter does also pertain to your daughter…" I started. His smile wavered.

"Is there anything else the matter with her?" he immediately asked.

"…No, sir… Of course not… Esmé is a healthy young woman… It's just that… I… Well, She…" I stuttered. He watched me fumble the words in my embarrassment for a few more moments and then comprehension dawned on him. It was like watching a candle flicking on in a dark room. He then smiled, his smile growing with every passing moment, and then, grinning, he said "So _that_ is where things stand!" he laughed in good humor. "Have you seen her since you set her leg at all?" he asked gently.

"Not at all, sir. I wished to inform you of my intentions prior to speaking with her about the subject myself. Should you resist, I will, of course, honor your decision and keep away from her…" I said with pain clear in my voice, partly blocking my words from complete coherency.

"Nonsense, Doctor!" he boomed, "You are an eligible bachelor, as is she. You are a respectable and honorable young man with good prospects and I know you can bring my little Esmé Anne joy. You may have her hand in marriage, if she is amenable."

I almost lost my footing just standing in front of him, amazed to be hearing such a positive reaction from the father of a 16-year-old girl. He would gladly give her over to me, even at this tender age. I was at a loss for words. He must have seen it in my face, for he put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Come, Doctor, let us get you in my home, and my Esmé Anne in a private room, where you can attend her injury and your heart."

I smiled a shaky smile as we approached the house. We entered, and Mr. Platt immediately led me to the living room, where he invited me to sit and make myself at home as he has his daughter brought before me. To the sofa I retired, sitting there, frozen as a marble statue from ancient Rome, awaiting my beloved's entrance. I was planning and re-planning, sorting and sifting my words, but none seemed adequate. None that would convey to her the depth of my emotions for her. And then, she entered.

Carried by her father, my beautiful Esmé was wearing a plain frock, her hair tied in a simple but beautiful braid, laid over her shoulder, gliding gracefully to her midsection. Her eyes were alight as she saw me. They were as glowing embers, whispering at me. I arose from my seat on the sofa. Mr. Platt gently set his daughter down on the sofa, kissed her forehead, and exited the room, smiling at me before he closed the door. I heard his footsteps as he left the parlor and entered the kitchen, talking quietly to his wife of what is to transpire in the parlor. I heard her words to him, as well, affirming his decision and hoping I would succeed in winning her over. But all of that was second to looking at her. My Esmé. She lay comfortably on the sofa, her leg propped up on pillows.

"Good afternoon, Esmé" I said, smiling.

"Doctor," she greeted me.

"I have come to check up on you. How are you feeling?"

"I am well, Doctor, thank you."

"Come now, Esmé, do not hide any discomfort or pain from me. I told you, I would never think less of you for it."

She blushed and looked down, saying "I really am well, doctor. Other than the itching, which I know is completely normal at this stage of the healing process, I have no discomfort or qualms. I just wish it could be healed sooner." She giggled.

"Well, may I approach and inspect the offending itch?" I smiled.

"As you wish, Doctor."

"Very well. Please excuse my cold hands." I said as I started to examine her leg, although I knew I would not find anything wrong with it. The healing process had already started to mend the bones, and the itch, as she herself said, was a normal part of it. I was stalling. I had no idea how to broach the subject I so wished to discuss.

As the last time we were in this room, she was observant, and saw through all my masks. "Doctor, there is something new in your eyes. They no longer show such deep sorrow and loneliness, but a deep-seated hope... And Love, if I may be so bold to assume." Again she shocked me into silence as I suddenly took to examining the floor. I was seating on the sofa, near her legs, my hand still on her injured leg.

I thanked the Lord as I turned to her and answered simply, "Yes".

She blushed and ducked her head. I knew then she understood. Without a single word, she understood completely. I put my finger under her chin and gently lifted her face to meet my eyes.

"Esmé, please, do not hide your thoughts from me on behalf of propriety..." I stared deep into her eyes, falling into those pools of earthliness. She smiled, her blush deepening, and simply said, "Your eyes shine with love, devotion, hope and faith."

"They shine only for you, Esmé." I could no longer hide the truth in her statements, nor did I wish to do so.

"_As I love, loved am I_3" was all she said. It was enough. If I would have tears, they would spill now from my eyes with endless torrents. If my heart still beat, it would again cease its vital function. I sobbed, sagging to the floor in a heap, kneeling before my Esmé, overcome with relief, love, hope, faith and shock. She admitted her feelings to me were of love. Love! My hand was still resting on her injured leg. That fast registered as I looked up to her, and I moved it to hold her hand. The softness and heat radiating from her made my knees give way, and I sat down harshly on the dark wooded floor boards.

"I love you, Esmé, with all my heart and soul." I told her simply and truthfully. I would not be traditional in my courtship. I will not waste a second more without her promise to marry me. Her face shone, tears gliding slowly down her supple cheeks, and a beautiful, radiant and gentle blush graced her face as she said, "As I love you, Doctor." I smirked, inwardly slapping my head, realizing I never spoke my given name to her. "Esmé, I am Carlisle. I will not have you following propriety with me for one more second!"

She blushed a deeper crimson, as she said "Propriety has a purpose, Carlisle. A time and a place that are not here and now, as well." My name on her lips sounded like the most beautiful rocky shore with the waves of the ocean lapping gently at the pebbles. Like a beautiful grassy meadow with flowers growing in between the blades of grass, a creak and an ancient forest nearby. It sounded like spring. And she was right, of course.

"Very well, my love, I agree with you on said subject, but as you so eloquently said, now is neither the place nor time for propriety." We both smile, and her blush deepens even more, as she swallows noisily. Now is the time for me to make my intentions known. Onwards to the gallows, the shackled prisoner walks, his head held high. I smirk, but sober up immediately.

"Esmé, I swear to love you, honor you, cherish you, respect you, provide for you and give you every joy and happiness in this world for all eternity, if you will have me for a husband!" The words spilled from my lips. I could not nor would I stop them. I am a selfish man. Well do I know I deserve neither her attention nor love. But I have them both, it seems.

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From the movie "The Three Musketeers" (1993)

Shakespeare's Sonnet 18

From "Jane Eyre" by Charlotte Bronte

Thank you for reading. If you would like to read more, I will welcome any pm, review etc. from you, letting me know to go on publishing, instead of writing for my "drawer"...


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to anything Twilight-related. I am simply in-love with the characters, as they speak to me and demand this story to be written...

A.N.: Thank you to all who reviewed, Favorited, followed and alerted. What an ego boost!

I wanted to reply to the reviews, but most of them were guest reviews, and FF doesn't allow for that. So without further ado, I give you chapter 2!

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"Esmé, I swear to love you, honor you, cherish you, respect you, provide for you and give you every joy and happiness in this world for all eternity, if you will have me for a husband!" The words spilled from my lips. I could not nor would I stop them. I am a selfish man. Well do I know I deserve neither her attention nor love. But I have them both, it seems.

I trailed a soft trail of love on her hand with my finger. I saw her watch that finger from the corner of my eye, her eyes brimming over with tears, now spilling over, and oh, to have her acceptance, to have her love, to know that I shall, before long, have her hand in marriage, that what the Lord God has brought together, no man shall pull apart.

An eternity ticked by as I waited for her answer. I did not realize I was holding my breath until she answered, her voice strangled by the same tears I wished to wipe.

"Yes, Carlisle," was all she said, and again, it was all that needed to be said. I arose from my kneeling position on the floor by her hand, sat on the sofa beside her and held her to me gently. "Oh, my dearest love, how I longed to hear those words from your lips uttered." I said to her, tearlessly sobbing.

But my brain quickly caught up. I am a vampire. To wed a human, other than monstrous and inconceivable, would be to rob her of any and everything that she wanted, that she deserved, that she _was_. How could I hope to be with her as a husband? I must change her before that. But to rob her of her chance of motherhood, of her chance of true family life, of children, grandchildren and great-grand children... That was truly monstrous.

I wished not, now, to lose her, now that I have her. I wished to hold her to me for the eternity I looked forward to for the first time in my existence. I _wished_. I wanted nothing more than to love her as she deserved and give all I had and would have to her. All that I _am_.

I knew then I had to tell her of what I am, before we wed, to let _her_ decide our fate. _My_ fate. For if she was to refuse me then, go back upon her promise to marry me, I would surely end my existence, for such eternity would be unbearable without her. To stand in the flames and be burned to nothing but ash, scattered in the breeze, would surely hurt less than an eternity without her.

"My Esmé. My love." I whispered over and over, hugging her, kissing those beautiful locks of caramel, inhaling the scent that was all hers deeply into me, reveling in her sweetness. "Carlisle," she suddenly said. "Yes, my love?"

"What is it? Something burdens you heavily. Will you not tell me?" She asked. Ever the perceptive miracle, she watched my facial expressions as she spoke. In her eyes, I saw my own face reflected back at me. First full of sorrow, then wonderment as she amazed me, yet again, then more pain as I thought again on all I stand to lose and finally, resolve, as I wished not to tell her what was plaguing my mind and soul, weighing heavily upon my heart.

"Oh, my Esmé. I wish this would be easy. Or fair." I told her, fervently wishing so.

"What is it, Carlisle?" She asked, worry etched in her youthful face. When she said my name so sweetly, when she worried so, how could I ever hope to refuse her anything? Especially since I would be depriving her of so much with my love alone. "I believe we need to have a long conversation, you and I. I wish for you to know all that I am before we make any announcement to another soul." I said. I resolved to take her to my home for the privacy of conversation, especially this one. I examined her leg closely, trying to assess the length of time it would take to heal. Another month and a half. She cannot hope to walk by then. And I cannot hope to wed her until then. She deserved to walk down the aisle, on her father's arms, not in them.

"Shall we, on the morrow, meet in my home? I wish to talk with you and for you to see my home, humble as it may be." Humble, indeed. I may need some furniture and to get food and cooking implements. For Esmé, and for appearances. It appears I shall have company in my house often, soon.

"Must we now be parted?" She asked, tears suddenly filling her eyes, threatening to spill over. Again, the Sentence rang through my mind, body, heart and soul. "That, which has been made whole, must never again be broken." It seems it rang true through her, as well. "I am sorry to leave you, my dearest love, but night approaches and you must rest if you want your leg to heal properly." I told her, truly sorry to part ways.

The sweetest pucker of her lips almost brought me to my knees and made my resolve weaken. When she, then, said "Must you leave so soon, Carlisle?" I was undone. I fell to my knees beside her, holding her hand, feeling as if the lack of physical contact might turn me to ashes faster than even fire could.

"Night draws in, Esmé. Are you not tired, my dearest?" I asked, still trying to hold on to my sanity. "No more so than usual." Was her answer. How could I venture to leave when the one who does holds my heart wishes otherwise? I remained by her side, touching her hand, looking at her, drowning in her eyes again. I cannot imagine, nor would I care to, better uses for my time upon this world, but to gaze upon her and listen to her speak.

"Will you speak with me now of the matters you wished to discuss?" She asked me, and I thought about the issues at hand. I listened to the sounds around us, and asked, "Where are your parents?" She looked puzzled for a moment, err she remembered, the light dancing in her eyes, "Our neighbor requested their company this evening for the pleasure of conversation, as she is an elderly lady and has none to speak with her during the day." Oh, I well knew her parents have left the house, of course, but I wanted to ascertain we were alone for a while yet, as we discussed these matters.

"Esmé, I know you look at me carefully, and have seen much in me. I would guess not all, though. Please, allow me the pleasure of listening as you describe me, afore we continue to discuss matters. I promise, I am not a vain man, as it is not vanity that requires I hear your opinion, but merely a part of the introduction of the subject I wish to discuss."

The latter part of my speech was said as I saw her begin to protest against my suggestion. Appeased, she then looked me over carefully, from my head to my toes. Her glance lingered on my eyes, my face and my skin the longest. She then proceeded to describe me, as she blushed a very deep crimson. With generalities and the mundane did she start, but when she described my face, and my eyes, she said, "Such an unusual color, but the most beautiful hue of gold I have ever seen. Much improved over the black coals of our last meeting."

I was, for a third time, struck dumb. She noticed the changing eye color? What else has she noticed? "Continue, please." I manage to choke out. Her hand comes to rest upon the top of my head, and she gently says, "Not until you tell me how I have upset you so that you hide your face from mine," she demands. And I cannot help but indulge her.

"The color of my eyes if very pertinent to the matter at hand. It lies at the heart of the problem, as it were." I answer, shakily, moving my body closer to the sofa, to grant her greater access to my physiognomy. Her caresses feel like nothing upon God's great Earth. The warmth from her skin seeps into my frozen body, leaving scorching trails everywhere she touches. Her hand glides softly from the top of my head to my forehead, to my left cheek, to my eyes, to the side of my neck. And I am addicted beyond all hope of rehabilitation.

She then strikes me down and casts me from the heights of heaven down to deepest hell with her next observation. "Your skin is so cold. I have been trying to warm it, but have thus far failed." I pray for guidance as I try to think of what to tell her, how to tell her, so she will not cower before me.

"Esmé, what do you make of my eyes and skin? Are you able to offer an explanation?" I asked, hoping to ease her into the knowledge. She appeared to be deep in thought for a while, her hands caressing me incessantly, twirling my hair between her delicate fingers. I wish to further reassure her, to ease her fears and allay her worries, as I quote one of my favorite lines from the Bible: "_For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you._"1

Her head tilts down toward me, and she smiles. "_The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?_"2 I smile unto her, and bless God yet again for this angel. And then I face my betrothed, and all my courage does it take to utter the next words. "But what if I were not a man? What if I were not even human?" I asked in all earnest. I suddenly rose to my feet, walking slowly to sit in an armchair across the room. This was it. She will now understand that I may endanger her and she will scream for her life, as well she should.

I sat there, waiting for her screams for help. And waited. She remained quiet, looking thoughtful for a few torturous moments. And then she knocked the wind out of me, and I found myself in dire need of oxygen, as preposterous as it may sound. "If you are or are not human, I shall never fear you, my love. I cannot feel any terror towards you, who have done the entire town, as well as I, nothing but good."

"Esmé, I must tell this to you, and you must never speak of it another living soul." I said, quietly. She looked solemn as she nodded her acceptance and agreement of keeping a secret. Such a heavy burden to be put on such young shoulders, I ponder morosely, and I continue, sealing my fate with this young human. "I am, and have been for many humans' lifetimes, a vampire," I say, as I watch her reaction.

My lovely one remains absolutely still and quiet, she looks but thoughtful, not panicked nor fearful. And I can only think of one life, heard so many times through my centuries upon this earth, each as special as the next. "_What God has joined together let no one put asunder_."3

I must have mumbles this loud enough for her to hear, as she suddenly looked at me, and said, "And this, you feared, would frighten me enough that I would turn away from you? Tell me, please, about your kind. I wish to know more err I make my final judgment on this matter."

"Vampires, by their very nature, must drink blood to exist," I start, sure that the screams would soon ensue after this accursed statement. Silence. Of course. Then, she speaks. "Yet you do not drink of the blood of humans." She stated, as if obvious. "No, I do not. But many others do. How did _you_ know?" I asked, stunned. "You would not have treated my leg. You would have slain me." And there it was. God's honest truth.

"And does it not bother you, that I am not human? That I might, in a moment, end your life simply by accident? By not paying attention and using too much of my physical strength on you?" I asked, worried to my core. The answer was immediate. "No. I trust you fully. I know you will never hurt me." She said. I arose from my seat only to fall to my knees beside her and take her hand. The worst is yet to come. She may yet reject me when she learns she may never be a mother, if she chooses me.

Well, if that had not shocked her or scared her away from me, I may as well tell her the rest, I thought glumly. "I am unable to sleep, nor die. I need not to breathe, I may run faster than human eye perceives. I am over 200 years old, and cannot sire children of my own." She looked at me, still unafraid, but now, the greatest sadness was in her eyes, and again they brimmed with tears.

She was quiet for a short while. Then: "You have waited a long time to find me, have you not, my love?" she said, and I crumbled before her. I wept, tearlessly, at those years of loneliness, at seeking ways to escape it, at thinking I was complete without a mate. My shoulders shook as I wept, and she held me to her, caressing my face and hair.

We remained that way for a long while, as I exposed every weakness before her, weeping for the pain of centuries. She then murmured, "I now understand the great sadness in your eyes. You wished for the loneliness and misery to end. And now, it has. I shall stay with you for as long as I live. I shall stay with you for all times, if you will have me. I wish not to remain as I am, but to become as you are now, that I may spend forever with you. You are dearer to me than my own life." I raised my head to meet her eyes, and said "You know not what you ask. Will you never want a child of your very own? This accursed existence that I must endure, the knowledge that I am an abomination in the eyes of the Lord God, it is not for you to endure." I was slightly aggravated.

"You know not God's plan for you, Carlisle Cullen. Never presume you displease Him simply because you exist differently than His lambs. You are His lion, created to do His bidding where all others may fail. To heal those how are needed, to bring death upon those who deserve it, and to create more lions to help do His bidding." She was slightly cross, herself.

I have never seen myself in such light, I have never before considered the benefits of my accursed existence may well be the Lord's intention for me. I lowered my head in prayer. She did the same. When I stared to pray, she joined me, and it felt all the more sacred for her prayer. "_Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed by thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on Earth, as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not for temptation, but deliver us from evil, for Thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, for ever and ever, Amen_."4

As we finished the prayer, we crossed ourselves, and then I rose to again sit beside her as I held her close and thanked her fervently for her kindest words. "I know not God's plan for me, nor if He accepts one such as myself, but I will do the best I can to be His tool upon this world." I vowed. "And I will be there with you, so you may never doubt again," she vowed, kissing the top of my head. I took her hand gently in my own and kissed it reverently. "I love you, Esmé." I said simply.

"As I love you, my betrothed." She answered, her voice thick with the emotions of the moment. Her words rang through my mind, over and over again, as I held her gently to me, kissing the top of her head. I thanked the Lord and all His saints who have granted me this angel to be my mate and wife.

"But will you not want a child of your own, dearest?" I asked, saddened to my core by the knowledge of this fact depriving her of so much joy and love. She looked at me, staring straight into my eyes, and for but a fraction of a second, I saw what life might have been like, had I been human, as she is. I saw my love and I, sitting on a balcony, sipping lemonade, as children run around the house, their merry laughter and shouts surround us with joy and bliss.

That small bit was enough. It was too much. It felt like a rod of searing flame casted straight into my heart. I wanted to cry, I wanted to fall to the earth, curl myself into a ball and not move for millennia. The pain was, in a word, excruciating. Instead of all that I wished to do, I simply froze as I waited for her answer. It came, not in words, but in a cry of alarm, as she watched what was probably conceived be her as an immense amount of pain appear on my face, and then me turn into a statue.

She called my name, I think, but I was too overwhelmed by grief at that moment to actually perceive or understand words. When she saw her words had gotten no response from me, she simply caressed and held me, missing my hand gently and repeatedly. I slowly melted back to an animated form, as I realized her anxiety.

"Carlisle, what happened?" She demanded of me.

"A vampire freezes when strong negative emotions seize them. It is the natural response. When humans jump from their seats in surprise or fold themselves over in grief, a vampire freezes."

I felt as a professor, giving a lecture in vampiric nature to my love.

My love. Those two words echoed over and over in my mind and soul. I had to have her answer. I repeated my question to her. She understood so much, and yet so little. "Will you not regret marrying me when your wish for a child grows?"

"Carlisle, if I ever wished for anything, it would be to have you by my side. Why would I wish for that, which I cannot have? Why would I want a child when your love, alone, fills my heart to its bursting point? I wish but to have you as my own for all times. That is my greatest desire. I wish but to make you happy, to have you with me, to know you are mine wholly for all times. To know we have forever to love, laugh and even cry together."

"You will tire of my constant attention," I said, now worried over her words.

She simply said, "Never, so long as I am aware." She chose those words carefully. She wished to become a vampire, that was evident.

"I, then, have other qualms." I sighed.

"Then I shall kiss them away immediately." She said, as she leaned over the distance between us and attached our lips together.

No words could describe the sensations attacking my body in that instant. Her sweet smell, the soft silk of the skin of her lips, the _heat_ coming off it, her taste of my lips and tongue as I kissed her back fervently but gently, the emotions erupting in me, it was overwhelming. But not now would I freeze. I was kissing her. I was kissing my Esme! My body reacted in ways improper for a gentleman. I wished but to crush her to me and kiss her entire body. Instead, I opened my eyes and beheld the glory that was my soon-to-be wife. All my senses were enraptured by her.

We sat there in silence, unwilling to lose the constant contact of our bodies. I held her hand and stroked it gently. She was caressing my hair, again. She seemed to be fond of that part of my physiognomy. We were silent for a long time, taking pleasure in each other's company, and the glory of our first kiss. Finally, I heard footsteps approaching the house, and her father wondering whether "the deal was sealed" between us.

His wife urged him to seek an answer to said question immediately upon their return to the house. I, too, wondered what my beloved's answer would be. For, even after acknowledging me as her betrothed, she now has to face her parents and lie about me, and her future, and all things considered, I wished not to urge her into a spur of the moment decision. I shall here wait with bated breath to hear her answer.

Upon their entrance to the house, Mr. and Mrs. Platt stored their coats in the closet by the door and walked together in silence into the parlor, where we sat in quite a compromising situation. Immediately, I rose to my feet and sat myself down in an armchair near the sofa. Esmé looked at me, understanding, but with a slight pout that was so endearing, perceivably at the loss of contact with me. There we sat, silent, for mere seconds, as her parents entered into the parlor.

"Hello, Dr. Cullen. We apologize for not being gracious hosts and leaving the two of you without taking our leave or offering you food or drink. Will you, now, take some dinner?" Mrs. Platt asked. "I thank you, Mrs. Platt, but alas, I must refuse. I prefer to take my dinner in the privacy of my own home, humble as it may be. I am afraid the few years I have spent alone, away from home, have made me anxious in company." I said.

Mrs. Platt smiled amiably, and asked Esmé if she would have anything. "Thank you, mother, but I do not feel hunger at the moment." Esmé said, ducking her head slightly, trying to hide her blush. "Very well, dear," the motherly woman answered.

"I have inspected young Esmé's leg, and I find it to be healing to my satisfaction." I informed them. Mr. Platt smiled at me, and asked, straight as always, "And how goes your other endeavor?" I ducked my head, smiling sheepishly as I looked down at the floor. "Perhaps Esmé should enlighten us all." I answered.

My beloved's face turned crimson, and she lowered her gaze to the floor. "What news have you, daughter?" asked Mr. Platt. She continued to look at the floor as she said "Dr. Cullen has asked for my hand in marriage." Her parents were boring holes into her with their eyes, and after a silent few seconds, her father asked, "And your answer?" she looked at me, graced me with her beautiful smile, and answered with confidence, staring her father straight in his eyes, "I have agreed to become his wife."

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1. Isaiah 41:13

2. Psalm 118:6

3. From the wedding rite.

4. The Lord's Prayer

A.N.: just like the last chapter, if you want another chapter, please PM, review, E-mail me, or any other way you have to let me know. Otherwise, chapter 3 will be kept locked in a drawer once it's been written.

P.S. I have a million things going on in my life, and I write every single second I can. I will do my best to update at least twice a week, but forgive me if I don't. Just let me know you want the chapter, and as soon as I have at least 5 people tell me that (as I do now), I will do all in my power to post it ASAP.


	3. Chapter 3

disclaimer: I do not own Twilight nor anything related to it. I just can't sleep from Carlisle's constant talking in my head :)

A.N.: Thank you for the mind-boggling amount of reviews, follows, alerts, etc. If I thought the first chapter's response was an Ego Booster, I am now on cloud 9 :)

Now, a few responses, as, again, most reviews were made by guests: The bible quotes are not mine. Carlisle is a man of faith. He is a preacher's son and grew up on the Word of God. I cannot stop him from praying, nor can I stop him from thinking quotes. They're HIS thoughts, not MINE. And he can be quite loquacious, it seems :)

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My beloved's face turned crimson, and she lowered her gaze to the floor. "What news have you, daughter?" asked Mr. Platt. She continued to look at the floor as she said "Dr. Cullen has asked for my hand in marriage." Her parents were boring holes into her with their eyes, and after a silent few seconds, her father asked, "And your answer?" she looked at me, graced me with her beautiful smile, and answered with confidence, staring her father straight in his eyes, "I have agreed to become his wife."

After much excitement, celebrations and hand shaking, we parted for the night. I walked home in a human pace, glad of the opportunity to reflect on the past hours, the past week, my entire life. I am a man of Faith. I have always known God directs mortals' paths. I should have known He directed the paths of vampires, as well. Everything in my life now seemed to have been leading me to this point in time. To my finding my mate, her agreeing to wed me, and a brand new _us_ I would never suspect could bring so much joy and bliss to my life.

Had I only known my existence might be filled with such immense happiness, I would have sought her love from the first second our eyes met. I would but need her love for me to know true joy in my existence. For as my soul yearned for God's love, it now yearned for Esmé's. As my soul wished to please Him, it wished to please and pleasure Her.

The streets were bare of any living soul, and I was glad for their absence, as I walked, with a sheepish grin plastered on my face. It now seemed a fixture, a new facial feature, one which was incredible to me. I found joy in me, unbridled and unparalleled. In all my years of existence, I never imagined such happiness would ever show itself to me. I never dreamed of this all-encompassing sense of love to be possible, but as I walked and saw her face in my perfect recall, I wished not for anything to change, and prayed before the Lord that I may, in a short while, have her as my own, to love and to hold. No death would do us apart. No sickness could steal her from me. I would protect her and love her with all my might.

I will forever be grateful for the weather on that stormy afternoon that had her up in the tree to greet the oncoming storm and broke her leg. At the same time, I angered at it for same said reason, for it brought her pain. But that pain would heal, and it brought us both such happiness in its stead. I wished for time to speed up for the first time in my life, so that I may unite with her, never to set her free. She _would_ be mine. She _should_ be mine, and I found I could hardly gather the patience to wait for that. I could hardly muster enough patience to wait for the morrow, as that, too, promised a reunion.

I pondered the talk we had with her parents. They wished to know when we would wed, and after informing them we intended to wait until Esmé could walk down the aisle on her own two feet, they happily agreed. I did not care about any wedding arrangements, except to be allowed to see her every day from morning to evening until we wedded. I was asked about my home, and assured the family it was humble, but fitting a young doctor's wife.

Now, as I walked home, I made a mental list of the things I needed to acquire in order to make my house presentable. As my list lengthened, a trip into the nearest city seemed inevitable, and I mourned the lost hours of being with her. I knew her to mourn them, as well. She was crestfallen when I told her of my trip into the city, but pacified as I promised her anything she wanted thence, and she requested but a new music box for her room. I will bring her the most beautiful one I can. But I shall, as well, seek to secure more presents for her.

My first stop would be the jewelers', as I attempt to find an engagement ring and order wedding rings for us. Then – a carpentry, where I needed to find furniture for my near-bare home. A table and chairs, a bed, a sofa and armchairs, an easel for her to work on, a bench for the yard, some chairs for the house, and many more items as such. Thirdly, I needed kitchen appliances. The various pots, pans, plates, utensils and such one would need in a fully functional kitchen. I needed an oven, too. Oh, there was so much!

I wished to find art supplies for her, so she may paint when inspiration strikes her. I wished to order suits for me to wear. I wanted to get her more dresses, but that seemed impossible, as I knew not the fashions of the era, nor did I know of any way to fully describe my sweet love to any seamstress for securing a dress of the right proportions. What colors would I get her, as well? The dresses seemed an impossible venture, for now. I shall discreetly ask her mother on the subject upon my return.

I walked on as I lengthened my list and expanded it to include all we would need. I arrived at my house, and for the first time, I looked at it with a critical eye. I did not need a large home, only a remote one. This abode was too humble for any woman to live in. I must, therefore, secure a larger house in as remote a location before the wedding. I shall seek it on the morrow, as well, I decided as I entered my house. It no longer felt like _home_ to me. My home was with Esmé.

I walked straight toward my father's cross and knelt before it, offering my thanks to God, not only for giving me the prospect of a mate, a _wife_, but for hearing my confession and absolving me of my sins to grant me such a reward. I prayed for hours, offering any and all prayers I knew in thanks to the Lord. As I rose, so had the morning. I hurriedly showered and wore fresh clothes.

I took a wistful glance in the mirror prior to my leaving the house. I meant it to be a cursory glance, but as I looked, my features seemed altered. I endeavored to put names to those changes, but could not. My face seemed the same, my body unaltered, and yet, there _was_ something different. As I looked, it became strikingly obvious. My smile. The laugh lines which were so faint, one may have imagined them, but there they were. I seemed a _happy_ man. That was the great change.

I contemplated this change as I made my way, vampire top speed, to the nearest city. I first found a realtor's office, and sat with him for an hour, describing the kind of property I was seeking. He took notes, made a few suggestions, some of which I knew and declined on the spot, deeming them unworthy of the grace of my Esmé's feet. Those I did not know, he ventured to show me on the morrow. I agreed and shook his hand in my gloved one. From there' it was the jewelers'.

I quickly found the jewelers' stores, and checked each and every one of those for the perfect ring to suit and complement my Esmé's beauty. I had seen countless rings thus far, but which would suit my Esmé? I thought of her, her love of nature, her love of her parents, her love of me. She was so well named. _"To Love_" seemed her main attribute. A heart encased in nature's love. I had seen one of those in a more expensive jewelers' store. I cared not for money. I went back to that store and asked to look at that ring again.

It was pure silver shaped like a branch, the lines blacked. It seemed almost a live branch. On it were tiny, delicate leaves of Jade, again seeming alive, two marvelously beautiful tiny Rose Gold roses, between which and a leaf, encased in the branch, sat a beautiful ruby heart. The ring itself whispered Esmé's name to me, and I therefore bought it on the spot. I produced from my pocket a sample ring her mother had given my ere I left their home and asked if the two were of the same size. Miraculously, they were. God has granted me another gift.

I bought the ring, and two simple gold bands for the wedding rings in our sizes, and walked briskly to the nearest church, whence I knelt and gave thanks to the Lord for this wondrous gift. I prayed in silence, kneeling in a pew, and thence I arose to make my way quickly to the carpentry. There, I ordered the much needed furniture, including a beautiful four-poster canopy bed, the headboard of which was full of angels, cupids, birds and other such symbols of Love.

I hastened toward the art shops, and there bought three easels, for her to place as she pleased, enough canvas to last, I was told, for a year, even for the most prolific of painters, all types of brushes, oil paints, water paints, palettes and other supplies deemed necessary by the clerk. I had the parcels sent to my current house, but the furniture was to be kept in a storehouse until I sent for them.

I set forth to find the kitchen equipment I needed. I had those parcels sent to my house, as well. I bought food in the city, as I have never bought anything in Columbus, and would hate to raise the suspicions of the townsfolk. As I knew not what to get, I trailed a stocky housewife shopping there from afar, and as she exited the store, I wished her a good day, entered, and asked for the same items, making sure to change their order in the list, to hesitate about some, to get items I saw other matrons purchasing, and some I just saw on the shelves. I asked the clerk if my _wife_ would have all she needed now to entertain 3 guests for a week. He suggested a few more items, which I happily bought. I had those sent to my house.

As I expected said parcels to be delivered, I made my way, vampire speed, to the house, accepted all packaged as they arrives over the course of three very torturous hours, put the kitchen to working order, making sure it sparkled clean, and sat in my study, reading any book I could there find on cooking and of foods.

A trial it was, enduring the smell of cooking food, the smell of burnt food, as I miserably failed in the preparation of dish after dish, but finally I learned enough recipes to be able to sustain my human _wife_ for a few days, at least. I toiled to clean the kitchen, again, appalled by its current state, made a list for the groceries I destroyed and used in cooking, stored the dishes I succeeded in creating in the pantry, and put the other parcels in order.

The rings then arrived, and I breathed a sigh of relief, conscious of the absurdity of a vampire needing so much oxygen, and I checked the rings for any imperfections. When I only found ones invisible to human eyes, I accepted them. With the wedding bands stored safely in my desk's drawer, I put the engagement ring's beautiful box into my breast pocket, taking care no holes exist there ere I make my way to my Esmé, to present her with it.

I raced along the wilderness, steering clear from any straying human, at last coming to a stop at the same spot I started my perilous journey yester evening. I walked as quickly as deemed dignified, anxious to be with my betrothed, and the journey was much more frustrating than yester evening's. I need not plan my words, I need not be guarded, I need only show her my love and present her with her ring. I knew she would accept any I may give her, but felt nonetheless strangely anxious for her reaction to this specific ring.

I tried not to imagine her reaction to it, as I wished to be surprised in it, to properly share in her excitement or displeasure of it. I desperately hoped it would be the former, rather than the latter.

I knocked on the front door and waited, as I heard the shuffling of feet rushing to the door. Mrs. Platt opened the door herself, and I beamed at her, returning the ring she gave me, as a show of the success I have had in my travels. She merely smiled and said in a hushed voice "Sure took you long enough!"

I smiled and she let me in, escorting me to the parlor. I have been without breath for so long, it seems, as I gaze upon my love. I finally breathe deeply and bid her a good afternoon. Esmé smiles, clearly as relieved to see me as I am her. Yesterday had took on a dream-like quality in my mind as I thought about it so often. I now needed reassurance of her acceptance of me. Unsure of how to ask that of her, I move to sit in the armchair nearest the sofa, but she stops me midway. She reaches her delicately beautiful hand to me, looking at me with her young, marvelous eyes, as she says the only word I needed, to know that all was real, "Please?"

Immediately, I am her willing slave. I hurry to do her bidding as I close the distance between myself and the sofa, between myself and her, between our very souls. It seems mine was aching for the proximity, for suddenly a knot is released it my stomach, that I hadn't even noticed until this very moment. I take her hand in mine and gently, reverently, bring it to my lips, and look at it briefly, before returning my gaze to her eyes, as I kiss it softly.

"how are you faring today, Esmé?"

"I am well, Dr. Cullen" she answers. Only then I become aware of her mother's presence in the room, and the task at hand, or rather, in my breast pocket. I kneel on the floor, both my knees attached to the front of the sofa and the floor at once, as I reach into the pocket, and before pulling the intricate box out, whisper hoarsely, "Not much do I have in this world, Esmé, but I ask that you accept this ring as you accept me into your heart. I swear before the Lord God to bring you but joy, to take all sadness from your heart, to honor and love you for all times. Will you do me the exceptional honor of becoming my wife?"

She smiles a tiny smile as I take the intricate box out of my pocket, and to her I present it, opening the lid for her, all the while watching her eyes, as she looks at the intricate box, at the ring inside it, and her eyes grow impossibly large. A slight whimper escapes her lips. She says but a three-letter word, but it is enough for all to know. We are betrothed now. She is to be mine as I am already hers. I take the ring from the box and slide in unto her fourth finger. We both marvel at it as it lays there, as if the ring was made specifically for her. I place a chaste kiss on her hand, but her mother disapproves of it, apparently, as she calls, "Kiss her properly, man, she will not melt away!"

I am forever in her debt. I look at her as she ducks her head shyly, but not before I see the fire and the dire need in her eyes. Yes, I must kiss her properly. She so desperately needs it. And as I lean forward, annihilating the distance between our souls, I come to realize that as dire as her need for me is in this moment, mine is equally so.

My hand reaches her delicate face before my lips do, and I watch in amazement as it gently strokes her juvenile features. I am awed completely at the feel of her skin for that one brief moment. In this one instant, an eternity passes as I wonder if anything on this earth could possibly feel so glorious. Not even her touch or caress had come as close to heaven as this feeling. No longer sinful in the eyes of God, I touch my lips to hers.

I thought her caresses were divine. I was sure touching her face was glorious, but I had never before, in this long existence, felt anything which even came close to this terrible storm of raw emotions. Her eyes close, as do mine, but my senses are on overload as it is. The smell of her. The touch of her face and lips as they connect with my own, the taste of her lips on mine. The sounds of our lips moving against each other's. the debilitating sound of a tiny moan that escapes her lips as they connect with my own. As though none of this was enough, her hands shoot forward, behind my back, as she holds my neck with one of her tiny hands, attaching me to her, and the other hand entangles in my hair.

Never before had I come so close to losing control of my instincts. But these were not a predator's. These were the glorious instincts of a man. And the man longed to crush this delicate flower of youth and femininity to his chest, to make that flower his in every sense of the word. The hand that was not occupied by feverishly worshipping her face found its way to her caramel locks, tangled its fingers there as though reluctant to ever let go and there remained, in silent bliss.

Our kiss seemed endless. It was not long enough. Too soon I felt the eyes of Mrs. Platt bore into my back. Too soon was I forced to disconnect our souls. My own protested in silence that to my ears was deafening. The only sounds in the world that mattered were of her rapid heartbeat, her breaths, fast and shallow, and our souls screaming for another dose of that perilous drug we both just sampled for the first time in our lives.

I am a gentleman, a man of honor, I reminded myself harshly. Arguing against these new, base instincts was harder, but conquer them I must. I shan't let them get the best of me again, I vowed before God. As I looked into the eyes of my beloved, I understood the magnitude of those instincts and how great the challenge I must now face will be, but face it I will, and win it I shall.

Esmé was blushing a deep crimson. It seems she, too, remembered her chaperone. I smiled at her, reassuringly. She dazzled me and bewitched me with her answering smile. It was small, fragile and oh so deliciously delicate. I longed to taste those lips again. I forced myself to rise and sit in the armchair next to her, but my sole rebelled against the loss of contact. She must have read it in my face, for she immediately offered her hand to me. Although it was her right one, the ring-less one, I gratefully took it in my own and caressed it.

We remained silent, our souls speaking loud enough without words. I understood their words. "I love you", "I miss you" and even "I want you" were all screamed out silently.

We spent the afternoon and evening talking about inconsequential things, but getting to know each other better through those. We spoke of winters and storms, of springs and flowers and streams, of autumn leaves blazing red and summer torrents. The beauty of nature was so blatant as my Esmé spoke of it. Through her eyes I saw beauty in all. Through my eyes I showed her sanctity in all.

We spoke of the future, of remaining in this town after we were wedded, but Esmé was adamant that we not remain, for she wanted to see a world beyond that which she has grown up in and come to adore. As she spoke of leaving, she gave me a meaningful glance and I immediately realized she was speaking of leaving her family behind for she wanted to become as I am. Before I allow this to occur, I must teach her all I have learnt on the nature of a vampire, perhaps that shall diminish her want to become one. It would seem we must have a chaperone from now until the wedding, so those lessons must wait.

I sat there in the armchair, drowning in her eyes, still thinking about those lessons and organizing them in my head. The most gruesome first, to scare her from the notion of undergoing the change. The gentler lessons must then come, to show the good sides of our nature. If she had not changed her mind by then, she shall know how good life as a vampire can be. As night fell on the world, I arose, bid her a good night, bid her mother farewell, and left for my house. I walked rapidly away, and when I heard no more human heartbeats, and could not see any artificial lights, but that of the moon, I took off, vampire speed, running to my house. The morrow will see me looking at houses for us, and I must tell the realtor that I now seek a house in different towns, as well. I may want to contact more realtors. We may want a house in a different state, if she does not scare away from her idea.

As I ran, I made my usual traveling plans. I was overjoyed that this time those will accommodate a travel companion, a wife, no less. I tried to think on all her needs, as well as my own. So long as she remains human we shall stay in Columbus, where she may visit her family when she fancies. If she were to change, if I were to change her, I reprimanded myself for avoiding the painful obvious, we must then move on to a different state, one in which she knows none and none know her, so she may be viewed as she is, rather than as she was.

It hurt to think of her that way, cold skinned, still of heart, no longer blushing, red-eyed, gold-eyed. It all hurt. She was so young! To change her now would be a dreadful sin, but how could I hope to be her husband, to meet _all_ her needs as husbands do, if I will not? For heaven's sake, one false move, one stroke of her cheek which holds more power than intended and I might crush her skull! She was so fragile. How could I hope to be with her? How could I not?

I was a dreadful beast, a horrible monster for loving her. For depriving her of her chance at a fully normal human life. But to picture Esmé as an old woman felt sinful, too. It felt wrong. To picture her in the arms of another, ah, that green eyed monster felt so foreign in me that at first I did not recognize the feeling. As I pondered it for a brief moment I realized I was jealous. She may never belong to another, she shall never have a human life, and she shall never have children because I was _jealous_! Of all the feelings the gracious God has granted man, that one was most heinous. Most heinous an excuse for stealing her life away from her.

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Well, that's it for ne next few days. I have a big test coming up, so I have to study. I'll see you all on the other side of it... Promise!

As usual, if you want the next chapter, please let me know... I'm thinking of raising the bar to 10 reviews per chapter, but for now, I'll stick with 5 requests for the next chapter to be written & uploaded :)

Again, THANK YOU ALL!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own anything twilight-related. I just share Carlisle's frustration...

A.N.: I promised you all I would see you on the other side of the test. It went well, and I thank all those who wished me luck with it. This is the final chapter before the wedding (Promise!).

For all those questions from my reviewers who all seem to want two things - I DO NOT do lemons. I have more respect for Carlisle and Esme for that. Two - you will all just have to wait and see! :)

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A most heinous an excuse for stealing her life away from her it may well be, but I still could not bring myself to keep away from her. I swore I would not. She is my love, she is my life, she is my mate. I recognized those truths as I reached my house and only came to a full stop in front of the cross, dropping to my knees in prayer.

I prayed for God to bless us, I prayed for Him to let her love me as much as I do her. I prayed for undying love and devotion from her. I prayed to find the best possible home for us. I prayed to be the perfect husband for her. I prayed to be the gentlest among God's creations. _I prayed_.

And dawn broke. And the sun rose, as it always does.

I realized I must hurry to meet with the realtor, I rose to my feet, made myself respectable, and dashed out of the house, running at vampire speed, the way I entered.

"A good morrow, Doctor, Sir." The burly realtor greeted me upon our meeting. I took great caution examining his face, lest I have been careless in my appearance and he would now suspect something of my true nature. But his eyes hold no suspicion. His face – smooth and untroubled. He awaits my answer as he inspects me, in all likelihood, trying to decide the amount of money I would be able to spend, and thus, his potential profit.

With a small smile, genuine for the first time since I had been with Esmé, albeit sarcastic, I greet him in the same manner. He immediately starts off in his rambles about the success he has had in his search on my behalf. I listen to his chatter as I walk beside him. He leads me to his automobile and together we set off. He shows me various properties, but none are large enough or remote enough for my future wife and I. On his last try, he takes me toward the edge of Columbus and a ways beyond it. He drives through the wood as I pay careful attention to the road, committing it to my memory, in case I choose this house.

He brings us to a gravel road leading to a sealed gate, stopping trespassers by foot and car. I immediately take a liking to the property. Privacy is to become very much necessary in my future. As he returns to the car after unlocking and opening the gate, driving the car through and then re-locking the gate, he says, "As you requested absolute privacy, I assume this feature is pleasing to you," referring, obviously, to the gate. I nod. "It is very well pleasing, Sir."

He drives us to the end of the gravel road. As we near the house itself, he explains, "It has its own forest, about 3 acres of land, a lake and a river running through it. The last owner was somewhat of a naturalist, and he built himself a greenhouse and a vegetable garden. A man who knows how to hunt his own supper would be well placed here, as he can make the property completely self-sufficient, food-wise. A car in a necessity here, but I trust that shan't be a problem for your budget. The house itself should be visible in about 3 more miles." He says.

Of course, he does not realize my supernatural eye sight. I can already see the house, and I am smitten. I can see our life here, my Esmé's and mine. Self-sufficient food-wise, indeed. I can hunt freely here, I can catch meat for Esmé from my kills, she can coax the vegetables out of the garden, and a greenhouse for my beloved's love of nature is absolutely crucial. I internally curse myself to my lack of thought on the subject. I should anticipate her _every_ need. Be it of her body _or_ soul. It seems this beautiful, 3-story high house is to become _our_ home. A bit extravagant for just one man alone, it was perfect for my Esmé. It was all I could want, all _she_ could want.

As I toured the house, that has already in my head become Our Home, I realized it may require a brief period of renovations to be worthy of my Esmé. I made a mental list of renovations as I toured it. Paint, mortar, a few nails here and there, a little oiling of hinges and a lot of hard work. I could do it within a day using vampire speed, but as I thought about it, I realized it would be the perfect distraction while Esmé's leg healed – I would make this a dream home for her. I shall have the yard, the greenhouse and the home itself all resplendent for her critique.

As we came back to the foyer, the realtor, a very observant man, simply said, "I shall have the contracts drawn and sent to you as soon as I can, on the morrow, in all likelihood. I gather you are anxious to start renovating it as soon as you can." A _very_ observant man, indeed. I thanked him and he took me into the city with him, enjoying a lively conversation of the renovations I considered for the house, making more suggestions on more I should consider, (thus earning my respect and gratitude), thus taking me to a reputable hardware store to purchase such items as I needed to complete renovations.

I bought paints, nails, mortar and planks, as well as the name of a reputable naturalist I could enlist in renovating the garden, greenhouse and yard. I gave the address of the property to have all items delivered, contacted said naturalist, from her securing seeds, seedlings, plants, shears and all else I could need while tending a garden – rake, seed dibber, water can, spade, plant pots and even some statues. I could see the property start to take a magical shape in my mind's eye as I eagerly raced to the automobile dealership, from them purchasing a fine, dependable, spacious car. I needed not such luxury, but my Esmé must never walk too far while human. It would also assist in my cover in those dreadful summer days.

I drove the new machine to the Farm House, as a brilliant idea formed in my head. A walk in the park would not be possible for her, but perhaps a ride around it might be just what she needs. I suggested it to her father, who, a wide grin on his face, went straight to the stable and got a horse. "She has had a bout of cabin fever these fast few days. We dared not let her out of the house. My little Esmé Anne loves nature and will not settle for watching it out of the window. Thank you, Doctor, for your most brilliant idea." He said, still grinning. "I also want what is best for your daughter, sir, both medically and spiritually .I love her too much to keep her locked up inside the house if I can help it." I said, mortified that I have not thought of this most simple of solutions earlier.

Mr. Platt went into the house and got her, carrying her in his strong arms. He lifted her unto the horse's back, handed me the reins and cautioned me against over-exerting his "little Esmé Anne". A curfew was set and a chaperone appointed and out we went. During this whole exchange, my eyes were glues to Esmé's. Her eyes as sparkling as my skin in the sun, she held on to the horn of the saddle and petted the horse's neck. I walked at a very leisurely pace, as far away from the horse's nose and down the wind as I could, in complete blissful silence for a while. I swear to this day I could almost hear Esmé's heart sing next to me as I walked. And what a beautiful melody it wove. It spoke of love, promise and unity. My own heart harmonized happily.

After a while, she asked if I have been successful in my arrangements. I told her all that I have accomplished, though not vanity drove me to it, but a simple desire that she knows all matters concerning my nature and our future living arrangements. I did not reveal the house's description, but the mere fact that I have acquired it for our use, and the fact that it was isolated. I begged of her, then, to reconsider her choice of becoming "One of My Kind" as she called it, at such a young age. She was adamant that she be changed, but why so young?

She considered, thank the Lord, and consented to wait until she is close to my physical age. "I shan't be older than you. It is not appropriate." She insisted. Well, if she can wait that long, maybe she will change her mind on the subject entirely. She, then, bashfully asked my physical age. "23" was all I said. "Then we have plenty of time to discuss any and all changes." She retorted. A thought was making her eyes burn from within, with the fires of conviction, and she said, "I _will_ have you to myself for eternity. You shan't change my mind about that, you know."

"Nor shall I ever wish to try. You are dearer to me that my existence, which has been made whole by your presence in it alone. I do not dare to consider my life without you and neither do I wish to lose you, come what may. You are my mate." I informed her. She was blushing when she asked, "Mate? I understand the word, of course," she said, blushing such a deep crimson, that I had to look away, lest I be blinded by such beauty. She continued without pause, "But not the significance. It seems to be more important than _wife_ to you, somehow. Will you explain?" she begged.

I looked behind us to gauge the distance between our chaperone and us. Far enough. "Vampires may feel physical attraction to any number of others in their existence." I started lecturing again, keeping my gaze carefully on the ground, thankful to God for the billionth time that vampires cannot blush. "however, any vampire, to the best of my knowledge, has only felt love towards one other. Just _one._ They stuck to that One with all their might, calling the process 'mating'. As a friend once told me, as I now realize myself, it is as if 'our souls recognize each other's.'" I kept my gaze sternly on the ground as I said this, until she surprised me yet again, nearly causing me to lose my footing. "I know what that friend means. I feel it myself."

As I regained my balance, I looked up at her. Has she indeed recognized me with the same basic instinct? Would any human recognize their mate so? I may live many centuries without an answer to those questions.

"I love you, Esmé." I said, for lack of anything better to respond.

"As I love you, Carlisle," she replied. Onward we walked in silence for a while. And then, as I began to wonder yet again about the physical aspect of our marital life, it seems she must have read my mind, for the next words out of her mouth stunned and shocked me. This time, I _did_ lose my footing and stumbled a bit. "Carlisle?" she asked. "Yes, Esmé?" I answered. "Will that physical aspect be possible for us? Even though vampires cannot sire children, can vampire females conceive?" She rambled on a bit, an obvious way to vent out her embarrassment. I waited patiently for her words to die down, and then I answered her, keeping my gaze securely locked to the ground, full of my own embarrassment, "While the physical aspect of a marriage remain the same even as a vampire, vampire females cannot conceive, and the males cannot sire children. It is a result of the heightened self-preservation mechanism. A vampire's instincts are to, first, protect his mate, for without the mate, a vampire's life is so full of pain, they may choose to end it." I flinched, thinking of Marcus. "It is not an existence I would wish on anyone, not even the worst of my enemies. The pain truly is unbearable. I have, with my own eyes, saw a vampire whose mate was killed, though we know not to this day, how. He is a broken man. All passion and feeling have dissipated from his existence, and he exists solely as a tool." I lamented.

"Then there _is_ a death for your kind?" She asked, wondering.

"There is, but it is not an easy feat to accomplish, especially on one's own. Vampires catch fire and burn to ashes. They may first be torn to pieces, but it is unnecessary. One may burn oneself, though. It is the only way for a vampire to commit suicide. The _only_ way. We do not drown, we feel neither the cold nor heat, heights do not damage us, we do not choke, we starve, but I have never heard of a vampire starving to death. Our instincts take over much sooner than that. We do not bleed, for the venom in our veins quickly seals our wounds. Even when we are torn to shreds, we may be put together again, if we are not burnt." I was a diligent lecturer; she was a very rapt student. Despite the horrid subject, I enjoyed this situation very much. Esmé's mouth was agape, I noticed as I spoke. I snickered a bit and waited for the torrents of questions that were sure to come next.

Esmé did not disappoint. "And you are exceptionally strong, fast and never tire." She said.

"Correct. We also do not have tears. The duct is sealed shut during the transformation process." I answered.

"Then how do you let pain out?" she asked, mortified.

"Oh, we may cry, we just cannot shed tears. And we do not get red-nosed from crying, either. I must admit, there are many positive aspects to this existence, though they are vastly outweighed by the negative ones." I answered her question. I knew a new one would replace it, and soon enough, it did.

"Then how can you not see us, human, as mere cattle? If you are _that_ superior to us, you should be able to treat humans as we treat cows, chicken and pigs." She asked, a little apprehensive.

"Because I was once a human. Because I wished not to become what I now am. I wished not to become a demon, or devil, upon this earth. I chose to save human lives, not end them. I chose to feed off animals both to ease my conscience, and to show others we need not be monsters. We need not feed on that which we came from. To show it is wrong!" I passionately exclaimed.

"So, then, you have rules? Laws? Who upholds those?" She asked, ever perceptive to all I say.

"Vampires have but one law from which stem many others. It is to keep our existence a secret, in order to protect our kind from humans. There are those who keep this law, the rulers of our kind. They are the Volturi, a very powerful coven made up of three who head it, although only two of those usually rule, and dozens of their 'soldiers', their aptly named army."And I shudder to think what Aro would do, had he somehow found out about Esmé. Nothing escapes her, as always.

"They would kill you and I if they were to find out about me knowing your secret, would they not? Is that why you shuddered so?"

"Yes." Is all I can say in response.

"So, then, what are the other laws which stem from that one law?" she asks.

"there are quite a few. One example would be to never create an immortal child. Once, long ago, vampires created such children, by biting the child, it became a vampire. However sweet the child may have looked, they were a ruthless killing machine. They could not understand the rules, nor the need for them. They would destroy whole villages just to sate their thirst. They were a plague upon the land and the Volturi had to eradicate them, lest our secret be exposed. It was a horrendous time. The created children were ruthlessly hunted down and destroyed, along with their creators. Many good souls were thus lost. It left a very deep scar in the collective psyche." Again I shuddered as I thought of Sasha and the child she created. Again, it did not go unnoticed.

"You knew someone who was thus killed." She guessed.

"Yes, but not directly. She was the 'mother' of three very good friends of mine. They were brought to judgment in front of the volturi, and only their lack of knowledge on their mother's doings saved them from being burnt along with her. They were made to watch her burn, along with the child she created behind their backs. Those scars will never heal for them. They mourn her still." I explained, very close to tears, if such were possible for our kind.

Her hand tentatively touched my own and I looked up at her and smiled gently. Esmé continued her interview for a while yet, but was forced to silence as we neared her home. I ordered her to remain as she was seated, went inside and summoned her father, to assist her decline. He came and picked her up as a child, cradling her in his arms as he made his way into the house. "Come, Doctor, you may bid her farewell in the parlor." Was all he said. And thence I went, bade her a good night and was soon driving to my house. I left my car there and dashed toward the new property, anxious to get the work started there.

So anxious that it was already noon when I realized I had not prayed tonight. For the first time in a very long time, I have yet to kneel at my father's cross. I was mortified, but there was still much to do in the garden and yard, and all had to be done as soon as possible, so that they may be ready to surprise my soon-to-be wife. I knew I hadn't the time to draw this out human speed, as I would with the house, else the flowers and seedlings will not grow by the time Esmé graces this yard. Within a night, the garden was full of vegetable seeds, the yard weeded and mowed, the greenhouse teeming with potted seedlings and seeds. I decided the stone path I wished to create from the house to the lakeshore would be the first of the items I would use human speed with. I also thought to add a bench by the water, so that Esmé may be comfortable as she watches its magnificence. I would make it myself, I thought. My love deserves my complete attention to any and all detail.

Soon, I was back inside our home, working in human speed and vampire strength to beautify it. It truly was a large mansion, but I could see Esmé in every part of it. It was barren still, but the furniture for it was waiting in storage. As I worked I tried to think of what I needed to get for the house still. I would not decorate it with pictures, as I would only want Esmé's works to be on our walls. I thought about adding armchairs, and realized I may need at least a few more, for the bedroom, at least. And a sofa. And a storage box for the foot of the bed. Oh, so very many things I had forgotten, I lamented. I resolved to get them all. To get every luxury for our home. To make her life here not only comfortable, but as pleasant and full of joy as I possibly could. I wanted her to be blissful, happy, filled with joy, to see her smile all day long. Ah, the wishes of a man in love.

As the day wore on, and the sun was past its prime, I stopped working, raced back to my house to shower and change my clothes, and then raced back to Esmé's side. I knew not what I would do today with her, but wished to make it a special day for her. I wished to make every day special for her. As I thought about it, I found my answer. I wanted to see her paint today. I smiled as I arrived to find Esmé in the parlor, smiling happily at me. "Good afternoon, Carlisle," she said, her voice sweeter than honey. I was struck dumb by her hair. It was glowing in the sun, closer to honey in its color than to its usual caramel. I stood there, smiling as the fool I am, for a few more seconds before I could shake the awe I felt off, and asked if she would like to paint today.

"I fear I lack the ability to do so in my current disposition." She answered, grieved.

"May I offer my assistance in getting everything ready for you? I am yours to command." I told her with a small smile. She sent me after the canvas, the paints, the brushes and the mixing board, but was suddenly saddened. As I asked her to explain, she simply said, "The easel is now too high…" I smiled. "Please wait a while, I shan't be long." I told her. I took the easel and walked out of the house, going to the shed in the back yard, where I found the woodworking tools. I sawed the legs to the correct height, sanded them carefully and made sure the easel was steady and sturdy in its new height before hurrying back to my love. Her eyes lit up as I presented her with the easel, and she immediately set the canvas on it and started mixing the paints, humming happily to herself. Suddenly, she stopped, lifted her head to me and said, "Thank you so much, Carlisle. I wanted to paint for a while, now, and have thus far been powerless to do so." I smiled and said, "You are most certainly welcome, my dearest." She happily continued humming and mixing the paints.

No sound is more beautiful than my Esmé's happy humming as she pursues a favorite activity of hers. She then went quiet as she started to paint, and I mourned the loss of the sounds. She painted quietly for an hour, sneaking a glance at me every once in a while, as I sat there, watching her pain. The smile danced in her eyes every time she looked at me. After the second hour of painting, I bid her a good night and ran straight to my house. I knelt at the cross and offered every prayer of thanks I could remember. For Esmé, for the house, for new love, for the promise of the future. Unlike my usual habit, I did not pray for the entire night, but ran home after only a few minutes of prayer, anxious to continue my renovation work.

And thus passed weeks of hard work and pleasant afternoons. I was pleased at the progress I was making and the speed of Esmé's leg healing. I had ordered all the furniture two weeks before the wedding, when the house was finished to my satisfaction, and arranged them to the best of my ability. I was also grateful for vampire speed, which allowed me to complete the work on our home. Human speed turned out to be too slow to finish the renovations in the time allotted me. I bought myself a respectable suit for the wedding and asked the local Father Thomas to bless our union, to which he agreed, happily.

And now, a mere day before the wedding, I was consumed in anxiousness, as I have been for the past two weeks. I was anxious for my future wife's health, for her well-being, as we consummated the marriage, for my self-control on that occasion, for what might happen, whether I would please her or not, for the inevitable pain she would feel, for her critique of our new home. My Esmé promised me that whatever home I shall bring her to, if I were there, she shall be the happiest there. I prayed she was right as I made the final arrangements to the house – cooking, cleaning and moving the rest of the things from the old house into our home.

My study was upon the ground level, though as far from the entrance as I could find a room. Upon the second floor was our bedroom, with its floral print walls, wardrobes and all. It had its own bath room and an adjacent dressing room. All wardrobes, closets, vanities and desks were built by my own two hands. I also found a room upon the third story containing so many windows it may as well have had a glass wall. So that is what I gave it. It looked out toward the lake, the yard with its gravel path, leading to the lakeshore, where a lonely bench stood, waiting and calling for us. This room I have made into Esmé's drawing room and study. She may fix it to suit her tastes better, but for now, it had a sofa, an armchair, a small, round table with a laced tablecloth, with a crystal glass vase, which I will, this day, fill with fresh roses, to welcome her in. in the middle of the room stood proudly an easel with a blank canvas on it and an oil lantern hanging from its top, and near it a workbench with her paints, palette, brushes, glass of water, cleaning cloths and a similar vase.

All was ready for her. But was I?

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A.N.: As usual, if you want me to write another chapter, review, pm or otherwise let me know. As with the last 3 chapters, I would like for at least 5 people to tell me they want it...

See you soon...?


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing twilight-related. I simply love this beautiful love story I seem to be writing...

AN: Thank you all for the reviews. I posted a playlist for this story in my profile, if you are ever interested. It's a work in progress, but I do my best to fill it up as fast as I can. I also posted Esme's wedding dress as the story's image, if you want to see it for yourself.

And now - The Wedding!

Enjoy!

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It was the day of the wedding. _My wedding_. How I have longed for this occasion. How long have I roamed this world, thinking I would forever be alone, without the love of another soul. Without the friendship and solace of any being. Now I have her. My Esmé has agreed to marry me, and if a few short hours she will become my wife. I was overjoyed. I was a hurricane of order around our home, cleaning and dusting the already pristine house. I could always find a fault, a flaw, in something that seemed truly magnificent only mere seconds before. I could find no rest. I filled all the vases in the house with roses, freesias, orange blossoms and lilacs. I even found an orchid, its amazingly delicious aroma reminding me of Esmé. I put it in a small, delicate vase on the night table, near our bed. And then it occurred to me. _Our bed_.

The thoughts flooding through my head at that moment, though completely obscene and inappropriate, filled me with expectations, a hunger the likes of which I have never felt before stirring within me. I was so lost inside my own mind that I mistook it for thirst and went hunting. I gorged myself on a few unfortunate gazelles and as I was drinking from my third, I realized with horror that I _never_ get that thirsty. I drained the poor animal nonetheless, not wanting to be the list bit thirsty for tonight and then I understood. The realization hit me like a rock crushing from a cliff into the sea. I was eager for our wedding night. It was not thirst I felt, but _hunger_. Hunger for _her_, for her body and soul. And I was filled with the deepest dread I have ever felt, a million different questions and wonderings swimming through my mind. A billion _what if_s in a mere second crushed me under their combined weight, which seemed in that moment heavier than the entire world combined.

I was holding my breath, trying not to succumb to the dread and horror of what I was facing. I was to consummate my marriage to a human female. A woman I was so desperately, totally and utterly in love with. I _wanted_ this to happen, but I dreaded the loss of control I expected on both our parts. I wanted to love her, appreciate and worship her, not crush her or kill her by accident, by being overcome with desire and pleasure. I was to remain in control the whole night, keeping a firm grasp on my strength. I went home, knelt before the cross, its new position in the foyer bathing it in a ray of holy light, and prayed for hours to have the strength and sanity to keep her alive tonight. I begged, I pleaded, I beseeched. I did all I could. And as the sun began its inevitable path from its zenith westward, I rose to my feet, bathed, changed into the new suit and blessed myself before the cross before taking the automobile to the church. I parked it outside, close enough to the entrance to escape the torrents of rice I was expecting. I looked back at the car as I approached the chapel. The next time I shall drive it will be as a married man, with my wife at my side.

I entered the chapel, heading directly up the aisle, knelt before the cross, blessed myself and went to seek Father Thomas. He was praying before the ceremony. I joined him in his prayers, comfortably familiar with them all. He knew I was a preacher's son, so he was not alarmed or surprised by my actions, but merely smiled at me comfortingly and kept praying. I smiled a very fragile smile and prayed alongside him.

The sun was already setting, the hour of our wedding drawing near as we finished our prayers. A buzzing of multiple hushed voices caught my attention. I exited the Father's chambers and walked into the church, standing by the altar. I was then approached by many of the townsmen and women, congratulating me. I saw Charles Henry, a former patient who was on his death bed as I was called. He was glowing with health and happiness. "Dr. Cullen, congratulations!" he exclaimed, shaking my hand. "Thank you, Mr. Henry." Was my shaky reply. "Do you have someone to stand with you?" He asked. I answered in the negative, and he offered himself. I accepted with gratitude, thanking him warmly, but all he said was, "It does not even begin to cover what I owe you for saving my life." I smiled and he took his place at my side.

And then, I saw Mrs. Platt rushing up the aisle and taking her seat, already red-eyed and clutching her handkerchief. It was ridiculous that a vampire who needed no air was hyperventilating. I was a nervous wreck. And then Charles' hand landed firmly on my shoulder, as he whispered, "Calm yourself. It shall be alright." I took a deep, calming breath and trained my ears on the entrance, and was instantly relieved to hear the hushed, private, father-daughter conversation there.

"Are you sure you are alright?" asked the eerily shaky voice of Mr. Platt.

"I am fine, Father. Honestly. I am merely excited." Answered the equally shaky voice of my love.

"You look marvelous, Esmé Anne. You really are all grown up…" he said, sounding as if unbelieving.

"Oh, Daddy!" She said, and I could hear the tears in her eyes. "I love you so much!" she told him.

"I love you too, sweetheart" he said, his voice choked with tears of his own. The music started, the wedding marsh, of course. Cliché, but that is what was customary. The usher opened the doors and I beheld her for the first time in three days.

Nothing could prepare me for the mirage that was Esmé Anne Platt in that moment. I almost fell to my knees to worship her. She was blushing furiously underneath her laced veil. It was so intricately done, that it seemed to be woven of spider webs to achieve this level of intricacy. And her dress. I had never seen its equal. On the outer layer, an intricate layer of lace made to look as if millions of white roses were sewn together. The inner layer I could distinguish was made of shiny satin. The dress had sleeves of the same lace on her shoulders and upper arms. It was gathered underneath her breasts by a white satin strap, and as I saw her move, I noticed it was tied in the back as a large ribbon, its ends long and loose, flowing behind her. The dress hugged her slight hips as it fell loose to the floor, simple, elegant and looking as if she was walking on air. I was feeling much the same. We may have been alone in the chapel for all went quiet around me and all others present seemed to disappear. She was breathtaking. She truly was, for I stood there, at the foot of the three steps leading to the altar, unable to draw a single breath, as she approached me on the arm of her father.

As she finally got near me, her father gently removed her small hand from his arm and, in a timeless gesture, placed it in mine. It was scorching me. Her hand scorched me where it touched my arm, and I would have happily burned forever underneath it. I inhaled a sharp breath as I grasped the meaning of the ceremony we were now a part of meant exactly that. She will be mine forever. I turned us both to the altar and led her slowly up the three steps. We knelt before Father Thomas, blessing ourselves at precisely the same time. He held his hands over us and started the ceremony, saying the words that will bind her to me under God's blessing forever.

When it came time for my vow for her, I stared into her chocolate eyes and stated loudly for all to hear, "My wondrous Esmé, I know not God's plan for us in the years to come, but I swear here today, before God and our beloved community, to love you with every fiber of my being, to show you but kindness, happiness and love, to give you all I am, all I have and will ever have, and anything you will ever want. I swear to you I shall never bring you pain, never bring you sorrow, and to always guard you with my life. May we never part in life and may we love each other eternally as we do now." If I had tears, they would be streaming down my cheeks in torrents. She smiled, her own tears streaking down her cheeks, and as she looked into my very soul, she said her vow unto me.

"Carlisle, my love, your love is a miracle to me. I cannot fathom how lucky I am to have your love. I vow before the Lord God and before our community to love you for all times, show you but love, kindness and joy, to honor you as my husband and soul mate, the better part of me, for all eternity, to follow you wherever you may roam, to be your rock as you are mine, and give myself to you completely and entirely, for my soul and your are one as our bodies now become, under God's blessing."

Father Thomas smiled at us as he prayed, beseeching the Lord to bless our union, bless our home and grant us naught but joy, love, health and wealth as we make a home under His law. "…In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit we pray, Amen." We echoed his Amen and he had us exchange our rings and repeat the vows he now made us vow. As she and I both agreed to his vows with our choked "I Do", he smiled as her straightened as he said "If any of you know of a reason why these two should not be wed, speak now, or forever hold your peace." All was quiet, and he continued, "Then, by the Lord's blessing and the power vested in me by the Lord God and this country, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride!"

And kiss her I did. I uncovered her face, the veil falling gently behind her back, hanging there and blending beautifully with her dress. "I love you." We told each other and I bent forward, gently taking her tearful face in my hands, sealing our lips. The kiss was short and chaste, as we were still before the Lord God and the townsfolk. As we were separated, the Father kept on praying and finished with the words I so longed to hear – "What the Lord God has this day joined let no man put asunder!"

He then turned to the witnesses and introduced us. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have the greatest pleasure in introducing Mr. and Mrs. Carlisle and Esmé Cullen!" The witnesses all clapped and rose to greet us. After the turmoil was but a trickle of people, I looked at Esmé and simply said, "Shall we, my wife?" with a very wide grin, enjoying the sound of those two words coming from my mouth for the first time in my existence. She smiled sweetly and nodded. We made our way to the car, making haste once we exited the chapel to the safety of the car and away from the flying rice.

I thought about taking Esmé somewhere else for our honeymoon, but I was anxious for her critique of our new home, so it was there I took her. To make it a true honeymoon, I would lock the gate with the new padlocks I purchased. No Christian soul may enter there. We rode in silence for a while, but were too nervous to remain that way. It was I who first broke the silence. "It was a beautiful ceremony." I commented, still too shy to comment on her looks. She, however, was not. "These clothes suit you well," she answered, and then continued to agree with me. _Oh, my vixen! Two may play _this_ little game!_ I thought. "You look breathtaking in your dress, you know." I answered in kind. She blushed so red, the heat from her face was radiating through the whole car. I laughed lightly. "Oh, my beautiful wife!" I said with passion. So much so, that she looked at me, smiling with tears in her eyes. "It was a very heartfelt ceremony, I think." She suddenly said.

"I feel the same way. Father Thomas really does wish us the best possible life together." I answered.

"And it has nothing to do with his formerly broken arm." She was _teasing_ me! Oh, my lucky stars!

"Or your unbelievable beauty in this dress." I just had to tease back.

"Oh, hush. I am no more beautiful than any other bride on her wedding day." She said, modestly.

I would not let her take these compliments in stride. My wife was the epitome of beauty. She must see I meant every word. "You are the most beautiful woman on God's green Earth!" I told her in no uncertain terms. I wanted her to see the truth of it in my eyes, so I turned my head to look into hers. She asked if I should not watch the road, but I only chuckled to that and kept driving in a perfectly straight line, avoiding the potholes in the dirt road to the best of my ability. I took a gentle but firm hold of her hand, kissing it and keeping it in my own. Her skin was hot against my stone-cold hand and I marveled at the constant physical contact that was now allowed for us. It sent a shiver of anticipation and fear down my spine as I thought of all the forms of physical contact we were now allowed.

We arrived at the gates and I moved the car inside before locking them. The action itself held such finality that I swallowed hard and sat down on the ground, aware of Esmé's stare. I could not move. I was completely paralyzed by fear. I was suddenly unaware of anything but this fear. I felt a very urgent need to escape. In a burst of vampire speed, I ran into the forest. The quiet solitude encouraged me to sit on the ground and enjoy it, which I did, grateful for the peace surrounding me. I was unaware of time passing, unaware of my surrounding, unaware of anything but the turmoil of my own mind, as my fears raged within it as a dangerous tornado, sweeping all in its destructive path. I dreaded hurting her. I dreaded not meeting her needs. I dreaded not meeting my own. I wanted the physical contact; I wanted the spiritual connection that consummating our marriage, that making love to my wife, offered. I did not want to hurt her while in the throes of passion. I wanted her to be safe and secure in my arms, but I had no experience to guide my actions and I feared my instincts may take over in that moment of complete reckless abandon.

I felt as though I had been sitting there for mere seconds, but as I finally gathered the courage to at least attempt to love her the way she deserves, rising to my feet, I noticed the complete darkness around me and Esmé's urgent calls for me. I ran toward the sound, hating myself for leaving her alone in our car without a word, without an excuse, in what must be a very frightening surrounding for her. I raced back to her, amazed at the distance I covered without being aware of it. I ran for 3 whole minutes before reaching the source of the sound. It was then I realized the car was nowhere to be found. My brave wife tried to find me, apparently, when I failed to return. My courageous wife. _My wife_. I was so overcome with pride, love, pain and regret at leaving her. I took her into my arms as I found her, apologizing over and over again, swearing never to leave her alone again. She breathed a sigh of pure relief, and then my lips sought hers as I could take the distance between us no longer.

Her hands tangled in my hair, as my hands tangled themselves in hers. She kissed me back so forcefully and with such dire need that it brought me, and thus us, to my knees. I could not stop the kiss or the surge of pure, unbridled passion sweeping over us. It seems her need for me was as dire as mine for her, for her hands devoured my body as I let my hands roam over hers, monitoring the strength used carefully. A fire was building inside of me, as well as the knowledge of what was about to happen and where. I rose with her in my arms, kissing her with abandon, not a soul to tell me to stop and ran, vampire top speed to the mansion, being careful not to jostle her in the least bit, lest she stops kissing me or touching me. I could not get enough of this touch. Not even as I was jumping through the window into our bedroom. She lifted her gaze, baffled as to how we got there. Esmé's confusion lasted all of a second before her eyes beheld our waiting marriage bed and her eyes and lips sought mine.

Making love to Esmé was a gift from the Lord. A miracle. A wonder. I do not know how I found the strength to monitor my vampire abilities while submerged in a pure sea of pleasure and love as I was, but somehow, I did, for she was sleeping soundly in my arms, exhausted by the events of the day. She was magnificent, her body too divine to describe. I laid in our bed, her sleeping naked form thrown as a blanket over my own. Her body seemed to glow in the sunlight, as if it was my own. My body was, of course, sparkling with the sun's rays, but today, instead of appearing monstrous and alien, those sparkling facets looked almost happy. Perhaps as happy as I was, laying there beside my Esmé, holding her close to me as she slumbered, listening to her slow heartbeat and her measured breaths. She has been sleeping soundly since just before dawn, when we could finally bear to disconnect our bodies.

I wanted more, but I will let her get her much needed rest. She will wake up hungry, I was sure. I gently laid her on the bed and covered her up. Then, after getting dressed, the smallest disappointed pout on my lips, I made my way to the kitchen, to prepare breakfast for my wife. As I worked, I thought about the whole prospect. How my life has changed since I met her, how my entire being has changed. From a self hating vampire male I have transformed into a loving husband. I was boiling water on the stove, without the whistle cap on the kettle. I did not wish to wake Esmé up and I could judge for myself when the water was boiling without its use. I stopped to consider what to make with the water – tea or coffee? I had both, of course, and a wide variety of teas, but which do I make for her? I knew not her ways of waking up, so I just brewed some Black Tea, pouring it into a beautiful porcelain cup I found in the shop. I put the scrambled eggs, toast, jam, butter and tea on a tray and carried it up the stairs. Esmé has been sleeping for almost 12 hours now. I knew enough of human physiology to know more was not necessary, but an indulgence, and I wished to spend time with her.

As I entered our bedroom, I found her fast asleep, curled around a pillow. I took the tray to the night table, removed the pillow and replaced it with myself. Esmé hummed, still asleep, although not as deep. I kissed her forehead, bade her a good morning, and kissed her some more, not wanting her to wake up "on the wrong side of the bed", as I so often heard it said. She stretched and yawned, hugging me to her as tightly as was humanly possible. "I could get used to waking up like this, you know... A beautiful husband, the smell of tea and eggs, all comfortable and..." She said and blushed.

"Now, Esmé, there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. You are my wife. You have a beautiful body which I adore," I said, caressing her body gently, admiring ever millimeter of flesh, "And I love you." I finished with a smile. She smiled at me, her smile as radiant as the sun's rays through the windows. Then, the moment I dreaded arrived. She opened her eyes to see my skin in the sun. The radiant facets were reflecting unto her skin, and for once, we matched. Her eyes grew wide as she looked at me, whispering, "Carlisle, you are so beautiful!" and I was undone. Breakfast forgotten, we continued last night's pleasurable pastime.

About half an hour later found us sitting comfortably on the bed, Esmé having breakfast and me questioning her on her eating habits, favorite foods and beverages and as a doctor, whether she has any food related allergies. She did her best to answer in between eating and drinking her tea. I then inquired what she would like to do for the remainder of the day. Esmé blushed such a deep crimson that I understood immediately. I smiled hugely, took the now empty tray with the empty dishes and set it down on the night table. I turned to her, knowing I would be tomato red right now, as well, were I able to blush. It seems our appetites were so far identical. We could not get enough of each other.

And thus passed the rest of our first day as a married couple, getting to know each other, both physically and with conversations, deep and shallow alike. My favorite time was twilight, sitting in bed, hugging her to me and whispering sweet nonsense in her ear. She looked so satisfied, so saturated by my love, she looked so beautiful, that I could feel the stirrings she generated within my body. The feeling, though now familiar, was all-consuming. I was to be insatiable, it seems. I rather liked that prospect. I grinned and she looked at me, at first puzzled, but as my hunger for her grew, that look was soon replaced with enough hunger of her own to make me growl silently, a deep rumble in my chest. I was enjoying this day spent in bed. Immensely.

The next day was a Friday. The end of a week. The second day of our marriage. I left our plans for the day up to Esmé, and it was a very delicately balanced day. I showed her the house, as she asked, but every hour or so, her appetites made themselves known. Both for me and for food. I made sure to satisfy all her hungers and she walked around the house with a glass of water in her hand. Every time she consumed it, I would run, vampire speed, to the kitchen and refill it. Esmé found it hilarious. On one such occasion she laughingly said, "I am tempted to add this water to one of the vases, just to see you get that look on your face as you run off to get more!" I was confused. "What look would that be, you little minx?" I asked her. Esmé giggled, blushing, and said, "That serious look of duty on your face, like I am your patient and am in dire need of a glass of water." She laughed. "You are not? You should be drinking more, my love. I wish for you to make yourself at home, Esmé. To do here as you would there." I said.

"Silly Carlisle. Even at home I never drink this much. I must have had five glasses until now." She smiled, indulgingly.

"Seven, actually." I said, looking adamantly at the floor.

"Oh my, Carlisle, you have gone overboard. Enough making me drink so much. It is my home, too, now, and if I wish for a glass of water, I shall march myself to the kitchen and get it myself!" she lectured. And she was right, of course. I should let her acclimate to her new home and find her own self in it. My face fell, and I mumbled my hasty apology.

"No need to apologize, Carlisle. I understand you wish to make this transition as smoothly as possible for me; in fact, you are making it smoother than you think. You baby me too much. I am your wife. Not your child. You treat me as my mother did." She said, her face radiant and glowing with the full force of her love to me. That look soon changed to a different kind of love. I was grateful for it as I led her to our bedroom, to greet the night as one in our bed.

Saturday greeted us with a beautiful sunrise over the forest. I offered to show her the yard today, and she grew excited at the thought. Yesterday, she would not let me watch her dress, too embarrassed with the novelty of our marriage. Today, as I stood to leave, to give her some privacy as she got ready to go outside, she mumbled, "Must you leave me alone?" I was at once still. "I thought you wanted privacy to get dressed" I answered. She rose from the bed, not bothering to cover herself up at all today, standing before me in all her naked glory, as she said, blushing only slightly, "I don't much mind anymore. I think you have seen all there is of me and if you still remain with me, it must please you."

I sent to her immediately, hugging her close to me, and told her, "I find your glorious body to be beside the point, Esmé. It is your amazing soul that touches me most deeply. I _want_ to spend every one of your waking moments with you. I take great pleasure in being with you, as great a pleasure as I take in being one with you and in listening to you speak with me and in everything you do or say." I told her, looking at her feet, slightly embarrassed in this moment.

She closed the distance between us herself, hugging me to her naked form, caressing me gently and murmuring over and over again, "Oh, my Carlisle, Oh my husband, I love you so much." I held her close to me, thanking God constantly in my head for giving me this miracle of His.

She dressed before me. I waited, rooted to my spot by the sensuality of her movements. When she was ready, she looked at me, giggled, blushing slightly, and said, "you wanted to show me the yard, not how much you love me!" and then quickly added, as she saw the small pout on my lips, "you may show me _that_ after you show me the yard." I grinned and took her hand, all but dragging her after me. She laughed and ran beside me. She was smitten with the yard. The pebbled path I created, surrounded by bushes and flowers, which I have designed the path to wind between, snaked towards the lake. As soon as her eyes were laid upon the lake, her lips formed a perfect "O" and she ran towards it. She sat at the bench and gazed at it longingly. I chuckled and asked whether she would like to swim in it. "We are completely shut out from the world, and I promise you the only living souls for over 5 miles around this lake are you and the animals." With my promise, she squealed with delight and immediately undressed. I was struck dumb by the sight of my Esmé, my beautiful wife, completely naked before me, against the marvelous view of the lake and its surroundings.

I shed my clothes before her and watched the hungry look in her eyes intensify. I laughed and turn toward the lake, running at a human pace into its waters. She laughed and ran after me, squealing as she hit the water. I tilted my head, wondering what made her react so. "The water is rather chilly, Carlisle!" she lectured me, but I was beyond listening to her words. The cold water was doing interesting things to her body and I was beyond starved of her affections. I closed the distance between us slowly, while Esmé squealed and splashed water in my direction. Smiling like a child, I splashed back at her and a water war ensued, which only served to make me even more desperate for her. I stopped splashing her and held her to me, hugging and kissing her. Her want for me was so apparent in this moment, that I lifted her to me and made love to my wife inside the lake, our moans and screams echoing in the distance, which only served to heighten my awareness of her and of the pleasure I was drawing from her miracle of a body.

I left her in the water afterwards, rushing to the house, vampire speed, getting towels to dry her off. When she was again fully clothed, I took her to the greenhouse. She was as a child, wandering around, touching the tables lightly, amazed at all before her. She turned to me and said, "Oh, Carlisle, this is marvelous!" I smiled and let her enjoy her surroundings. She remained there for hours, working and humming to herself. I sat in a chair and watched her, content in watching her enjoy herself.

In the evening, we went back to the house, and I showed Esmé the study. As she explored it, I prepared her dinner and brought it to her on a tray. Esmé protested, saying, "I can make my own diner, Carlisle. For Heaven's sake, you do not even eat!" I looked at the ground and she made me promise to let her cook her own food from now on. "You made me breakfast, lunch and dinner. I doubt it even smelled edible to you. Stop pampering me. I shall take care of myself. I shan't starve, I promise." Properly rebuked, I light the fire in the beautiful fireplace and sit with her on the sofa. "I am very sorry, Esmé. I never meant to make you uncomfortable. I merely wanted to pamper you, to give you all you need, as I promised to do before the Lord God. Will you forgive me?" I begged.

"Of course I forgive you, Carlisle, dear." And my world was made whole again.

* * *

AN: Well, this is it for today. as usual, if you want more, let me know. I am getting very close to the part of the story that got me started on it. I promise to start writing the next chapter as soon as at least 5 readers tell me it's worth writing. I'm feeling very insecure by the dropping numbers of readers and reviewers, so I may stop just the same...

See you all later?


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own anything twilight-related. I am merely in-love with Carlisle and Esmé's love story.

AN: I am going to knock your socks off with this one, folks. best be sitting down when you read it. I'm ever so glad I was sitting down when I wrote it, because I did not believe it myself. Carlisle took my breath away this time. I tried to convince him that this wasn't what happened, but he would not be swayed...

A little shorter than the last chapter, but it had to be. You'll see why.

* * *

Sunday morning promised rain. I could smell it in the air, hear the animals scurrying around as I ran for a quick hunt before Esmé wakes up. It was neigh on 5am, and I was tracking a group of deer around the forest, trying to chase them away from the house, to not make any noise. I jumped a large stag and drained it, then quickly another and a third. I knew it was time to start bringing meat into the house, so I grabbed one of the deer and took it behind the kitchen, whence I got a knife, skinned it and sliced it into neat pieces. I disposed of the rest of the corpse and made my way to the kitchen. After washing my hands came the task of preparing the meat. Curing the venison seemed beyond my capabilities and unsafe, considering my venom still lingered in it, so I decided to make it into a stew. I made the stew and left it in the oven on a very low setting to cook slowly over a few hours. By noon, it should be ready for Esmé to eat. I will be able to tell if there remains any trace of venom in the meat.

I crawled beside her and rested there, watching her sleep, wondering what she was dreaming of. I wanted in that moment to be able to sleep, to dream of her as she dreamed of me. Could it be possible for soul mates to meet each other in the land of dreams? I knew not, but it was a sweet thought. I laid beside Esmé, thinking about all that has happened in the last few days. She seemed to be as happy as I was with our life together. I knew I would this day show her the drawing-room and that, too, made me wonder if she would like it, if she would find flaws in it, would she change anything and what. To dwell on such thoughts would only make me more anxious for her reaction, so instead, I tried to think of anything else. Of course, being a newly wedded man, even if I was a vampire male, I was immediately thinking of my wife's beauty, awakening my need for her and rekindling the fire within my stomach. I felt my body react in the way it always did, lately, when I was around Esmé. Apparently, so did she, for she moaned slightly and moved closer to me.

"Are you awake, Esmé?" I asked her.

"Mmm, no…" she mumbled sleepily. I chuckled slightly, which made her grunt a little huff and swat me gently with her hand.

"You make a very bad mattress, you know. Stop moving!" She said, slightly annoyed.

Chuckling, I said, "Yes, my love." And became as still as a statue. She huffed and curled up against me, a thick blanket the only barrier between us. I looked at her, cuddled into her blanket. "Esmé, are you cold, love?"

"No." came the muffled answer. And then she asked "Are we doing anything special, or can we just spend the entire day in bed?" I chuckled as I answered her, "Well, I had my plans for us for today, but it seems the sun will not cooperate with me, so we may stay in bed, if you so wish." She did not even think, it seems, but instead, she threw her blanket off her and hugged me tightly to her. When she whispered what _her_ plans for today were, it was I who did not even hesitate before accepting her idea. We remained blissfully unaware of our surroundings for the rest of the day, until she became hungry. She made her way to the kitchen, wearing but a simple night-gown. How was it possible that she looked even better with it on than in her most elegant dress? Oh, the torture of waiting for her to finish Lunch. And then Dinner. I wanted nothing more in that moment than to tell her she may eat later and carry her off to bed. "This is very good, you know, especially for someone who does not eat." She said, eating her Dinner. She would not take the stew for Lunch, insisting, instead, on a sandwich which she herself made.

"I am glad you find it to your liking, Esmé, I had hoped I did not destroy it with my attempt at cooking." I answered. She continued to eat quietly as I pondered her state of undress. She now seemed comfortable to be in her unmentionables near me, and I thanked God for that, but I also wanted her to have all she needs and wants, clothes, dresses, unmentionables, shoes and all. I wanted to get her the Moon, but since I cannot, I shall get her everything this world has to offer. Her youthful face glanced at me, I saw my determination reflecting in her eyes, but then her eyes turned hungry. I knew that look. I wanted that look. I wanted to see it in her eyes for eternity. I wanted her, right here, in the kitchen, right now. And it seems she was thinking the exact same thing. We never made it to bed, but chose to explore the ample possibilities this wonderfully large home offered us as replacements. We were very eager explorers that night.

Monday started with a downpour. I thought on taking Esmé to town today, since the lighting in the drawing-room was still too dismal. We were cuddled in bed, Esmé wrapped in a comforter next to me, still fast asleep. I decided taking her to town would be a test for me, to see how long I can resist the ever-growing pull of her body. I waited for Esmé to awaken, excited by the prospect of showing my beautiful wife off. I shall take her to visit with her parents, as well, after we were finished with our clothes hunt. I thought about the trip ahead of us this day, imagining Esmé's face as she took in exactly what kind of stores I wanted her to peruse. And then the glint in her eyes and she chose beautiful gowns and her blush as she bought daring unmentionables to tempt me with. _That_ thought ended her sleep as my craving made itself apparent.

When she was done with her bath, getting dressed, I introduced my plans for this day. She looked agitated for a while, before she asked, "Do my dresses not please you?" with a look of shame in her eyes.

"Oh, Esmé, my love, it is not at all that they do not please me, it is that I wish for you to have but the best. I wanted, also, to visit your parents, after we were done, if you are amenable." I tried to distract her.

"That would be wonderful, Carlisle. I would love to see my parents today!" she was practically bouncing with excited energy. I grinned and chuckled, ecstatic to see Esmé this happy.

"Get dressed, my love. We have a long day ahead." I ordered.

Before long, we were heading to the city. The excited energy was nearly palpable. I drove as fast as the automobile allowed. "I can _run_ faster than this!" I called with impatience. Esmé's eyes widened. "Can you?" she asked in wonder.

"Of course I can! But I wanted the car for you, as I do not want you to feel uncomfortable in riding on my back as I ran." I confessed. I had to give her the full reason, as well, hoping that would please her. "I also wanted you to be able to drive it, so you could visit your family and friends whenever you fancied it." I said, as I watched her reaction. It seems I was in the right, in the purchase of this automobile for her, for Esmé's next words were full of wonder and excitement.

"You would teach me how to drive? It seems so complicated!" she said.

"It is very simple, my love. I am confident you will take to it soon enough." I answered, and grinned as a thought occurred to me. "I could race you," I said, now excited myself with the prospect. She laughed heartily.

"You are such a child!" she exclaimed, laughing.

"But you love me anyway." I said, slightly unsure, despite the fact she was now my wife and has professed her love for me on multiple occasions.

"Yes, Carlisle. Yes, my husband. I love you more than anything." She said, caressing my face. Oh, to hear those words from Esmé's lips was to catch a glimpse of Heaven.

"I love you, Esmé. I do not tell you often enough, I am afraid." I said in regret.

"You say that as often as I need you to." She answered softly.

"But not as often as you deserve." I answered. That quickly became our way of confessing our love. I would be insecure of her feelings for me for a moment and she would repeat this conversation with me every time.

As I reached our destination, I stopped the car in front of the store. Esmé took one look at it and said, "Carlisle, that store is much too exp-" before she could finish her protest I sealed my lips to hers. I intended the kiss to be brief, but Esmé's lips had a magnetic pull to them. We stayed connected for a few more blissful minutes, our hands exploring, our lips sealed, and our mutual hunger making the car buzz with the electric current of our passions. I remembered I was about to rebuke her, but could not remember what the subject of said rebuke was. And then, as I leaned away to allow her to breathe, of course I remembered.

"You will enter said store, where you will purchase at least ten garments for yourself. You will only choose what you like, not what _you think_ I will like. Alright, my love?" I asked her. Her eyes were dazed as she looked at me and I waited for the look of comprehension to show in her face ere I let her out of the car and into the store. I had errands of my own to run and did wish to be surprised by her choice in gowns. Esmé finally nodded, swallowing what must have felt like a large lump of nerves in her throat. I kissed her a while longer, eager for the taste of her lips. When I felt I could, at last, survive an hour or two away from her, I released her, opened the door, walked to her side of the automobile, opened Esmé's door and helped her out. She smiled and rose to her feet, kissing my cheek before making her way into the store. "I shall be back within two hours to pay for your purchases. Remember I love you." I said to her. She smiled and went inside the store.

I made my way to the other side of town, endeavoring to purchase some more armchairs and couches as well as groceries. I now knew what to buy. I was thankful I did not need to follow another woman's purchases, but walked confidently and purchased what I needed. I, then, made my way to the dress store, parking far enough away to be out of sight of it, but not too far as to not hear the goings on therein. My Esmé was perusing the store's inventory, assisted by the sales lady. She was currently trying to decide if the dress before her was fit for everyday use, or a special occasion dress only. I listened as the sales lady extolled the virtues of said dress while showing her a large variety of other dresses, no doubt meant for everyday use. Esmé inquired as to the quality of the seams and fabric, and how it was to be cleaned.

And it hit me. "A washboard, you imbecile! You forgot a washboard for her!" Calling myself every foul name I could think of, I drove to the market, asking the merchant what was deemed necessary for the task. The merchant smiled at me, taking me to a very peculiar silver cylinder, which he called a "Thor", saying it cleaned the clothes using electricity. It was invented about 3 years ago and would fast rise to dominate the market. When I bought it, he asked whether he should have it delivered. I answered in the positive and gave him the address. He also sold me soaps and all necessary to wash clothes at home. I would have to install lines for the clothes to hang on to dry, so I bought everything necessary for that, to be delivered to our home, of course.

Going back to the dress store, I again parked in the same spot and listened. This time, Esmé was done, it seems, for she asked how much the bill was. I rushed in before she could get an answer, stating I would be paying my wife's bill. The sales lady had all her purchases packed and I paid without letting Esmé hear the prices. She could wonder at my monetary status some other time. I then asked Esmé quietly, not wanting to be heard, if she also bought undergarments. She answered in the positive, but mentioned those were not part of the ten items she was to buy. She blushed a very delicious shade of pink at our conversation and I hugged and kissed her for that.

I was about to usher her back into the car when she asked, "Will you not show me how fast you run? You said we may be home sooner that way."

"And what of your clothes? Or your parents? Do you not want to see them at all?" I asked her, trying to gather from her what her priorities were in this moment.

"The clothes I requested to be delivered home, and from the store I telephoned my parents and invited them over to our place in about 3 hours. I figured that will give you enough time to run back and fetch the car. Was I wrong in assuming it possible?" she asked, worried.

I chuckled and said, "No, Esmé, three hours are more than enough. Shall we get out of sight first?" and I led her to a small grove where I could hear no heartbeats in the vicinity except hers. I picked her up and cuddled her to me, saying, "The speed may make you dizzy. If that starts to occur, shut your eyes. I will let you know when we get home." She nodded her understanding and off I ran, exhilarated in sharing yet another aspect of my being with Esmé. I looked at her after about a minute of running and her eyes were wide, but her heart was only a little accelerated. She was not dizzy? I felt as if walking on air at the thought. When I heard her whisper "This is truly marvelous!", I nearly tripped. She liked this form of travel. For the first time since meeting her and falling in love with her, I could see our forever, Esmé running at my side, happy and free, sharing long nights in adoration, loving with no restraints. It was beautiful. It was all I ever dreamed of having.

In that moment, in realizing what I was thinking, I felt truly wretched. Was I truly thinking of taking her humanity away from her? Her very _soul_? She would never forgive me, and neither will God. She wanted to become like me, yes, but she did not truly understand what it meant. I must teach her all there is to know of my kind. I must hope she comes to her senses before she makes me turn her. I resolved to become her teacher.

As we arrived home, I set her down. She was steady on her feet immediately, not even slightly dizzy. She went into the kitchen, humming to herself happily, boiling water, searching the pantry for food to serve to our first guests and all the while, smiling hugely. "That was a wonderful run, Carlisle. Thank you." She called from the kitchen. I smiled and answered, "You are most welcome, Esmé. Any time you wish to run like that, I would be happy to oblige. I am going to retrieve the car. Please remember we have deliveries due, so you should not be alarmed to find people on our doorstep." I reminded her. She nodded and I turned to run back to the city. "Be safe, my only love" she called after me, and now I was truly walking on air. I grinned the entire run there and the entire drive home. It took a little over an hour, getting the car back home and running there had taken less than a quarter of an hour. We had plenty of time before her parents were due.

I went inside, finding Esmé still in the kitchen, baking a cake and a meat pie for dinner. She was humming still. She seemed truly happy and in her element in the kitchen. "You are home!" she called and ran to me, hugging and kissing me. She thanked me for the washing machine I bought, and explained the driver was none other than the clerk, who taught her how to use it. She was anxious to try it. She said the supplies I bought for the lines just arrived and I set off to set them up, vampire speed. I built the two posts first and then tied the ropes to them, creating six two-meter-long laundry lines behind to kitchen. Esmé laughed all while I was working, and afterwards told me she would like a door from the pantry, where the washing machine now sat, to the lines, so she could carry the wet laundry to be hung herself. I refused in the beginning, saying I would be more than happy to carry the laundry myself, to, in fact, _do_ the laundry myself, but she was adamant that "Taking care of the house is a wife's chore, not the husband's." I, of course, relented.

"I will build you a door tomorrow, if you wish." I said, feeling strangely elated, even though I lost the argument. And then, I understood. I had never had a wife to do the house chores. I never had anyone to care for me as I cared for the sick. I loved this feeling. I realize I was grinning when Esmé giggled and went back to her work in the kitchen. I gave the ropes a quick tug, making sure they were secure, and headed back inside, and into the kitchen. Esmé was sitting near the stove, watching over her cake and pie. I saw there was not much more to do here, and grabbed Esmé, hugging her to me and kissing her soundly. She giggled and hung onto me, as I carried her to the bedroom, vampire speed. When I set her down, she mock-yelled at me, "Carlisle! We have guests due! We cannot do _that_ right now!" I kissed her neck, talking into it, refusing to part with her skin, "They are not due for half an hour yet, we have time."

Deciding I shan't wait a moment longer to have my wife close to me, I fell onto the bed with her in my arms, coaxing her into submission with my kisses and whispers of love. I promised her to tell her the moment I hear a car going into the start of our driveway, so she may dress herself and make herself presentable. I could do that in under a minute, vampire speed, but she would take longer. I needed her so bad after spending so much time part today; it frightened me to a small degree. I was a drowning man, she was my haven. I was starving, her body my feast. I was parched, she was my cool lake. I knelt beside the bed and worshipped her body before surrendering to the sweet temptation it offered. Esmé endured my ministrations with a kind of purr – something between a moan and a whispered "Oh". We spent the next half hour blissfully entangled in each other.

When I heard the sound of a horrible screech of tires, and then a terrible sound of crushing, twisting metal, I was already dressed. I ran out the door and on towards the highway, my black bag in my right hand. I reached the scene of a horrific automobile accident. The car was bent around a tree, the engine completely smashed, all windows shattered around me, and the smell of spilled human blood so powerful, I did not even need to guess who the passenger and driver were, nor their condition.

Mr. and Mrs. Platt were dead.

That fact rang in my ears, its force stronger than the blood's scent. Esmé's parents were dead. There was nothing I could do. Both hearts were silent, their injuries too great to sustain their lives even if I managed to resuscitate them. Even venom could not help them. I sank to my knees, sobbing tearlessly at the horrible loss. After all my years of existence, I had gained another set of parents, only to lose them, days later, in the most ghastly way imaginable. Oh, my poor wife! My poor Esmé! An orphan in an instant. How will I tell her? How will I help her cope with the loss? The pain was overwhelming to me, how will _she_ take it? I thought about all those and more as I ran back home. I went to my wife, sitting her down on the bed.

"What is it, Carlisle? Where did you disappear to?" she anxiously asked.

"Esmé, there has been an automobile accident." I said, simply.

"Help them!" she screamed. It was a horrible, desperate sound. She knew why I was here and not with them. My head hung low, I simply said, "I cannot."

"No, no no no no. Mommy! Daddy! It's entirely my fault!" she screamed, crying, running all over the room blindly, stumbling into the furniture. I went to her, holding her to me as she cried, saying "Esmé, this is in no way your fault, my angel. These things happen, wife. We are powerless against them. I am so sorry, my love. I am so, so sorry, my sweet." All she said was, "Mommy. Daddy. Not them. Please, not my Mommy and Daddy!" again and again, sobbing and screaming. I sobbed with her, collapsing to the floor, crying our eyes out, her tears just this once enough for us both.

We must have wept for hours. She could not stop, and for her pain, neither could I. I did stop enough to telephone the police, letting them know what has happened and where the bodies were. I wanted their bodies to be taken from there, so nothing could touch them. They deserved this last respect. When the police came to get my testimony, I told them I was heading home from the city, anticipating Esmé's parents' arrival. Esmé's sobs were audible throughout the house. I bade them farewell, anxious to get back to her. They said they would telephone when arrangements needed to be made. Until then, I must attend to my Esmé's grief. And my own. Those were the only things that mattered right now.

Esmé sank into a nightmarish sleep a while later and I held her as she slept. She was so hurt, so lost. I remained by her side until morning. Even then, I only went as far as the kitchen, making her some hot tea. I used the time the water was taking to boil, to make a few telephone calls. The first, to the police, to make sure the Platts were taken care of, their bodies ready to be released for burial. The second was to Father Thomas, informing him of the catastrophe and asking him to do their last rites. I knew I could do them, but I was beside myself in my grief, and needed to support Esmé during her time of grief, as well. Father Thomas graciously agreed to preside over the last rites and the wake, as well as the funeral. I thanked him kindly and his only answer was that he was sorry to be doing so mere days after presiding over our wedding. "At least they got to marry little Esmé Anne afore they were taken." And all I answered was, "_The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord_.1" The most ancient of acceptance prayers. "Amen!" said the Father.

The third telephone call was to the florist in town, again, having to explain what has happened. But before I could ask them of the flowers to be placed upon the coffin, the clerk merely called for his wife, telling her what has happened. They immediately took it upon themselves to get the word out to the rest of the town, to have them attend the funeral and wake, if they so pleased. They also took it upon themselves to prepare all floral arrangements for the funeral and the wake, promising only that it will be done respectfully, and that the cost of those flowers would be paid in full by them. I refused adamantly, but they would not take 'no' for an answer. The Platts, it seems, were liked by the whole town. It did not take long for me to understand that. Telephone calls, visits, flowers sent to our home, they all spoke of the townsfolk's love for Esmé's parents. I did my best to be a gracious host, but my wife's needs in this time of trial must come first.

The funeral was a beautiful ceremony, and attended by most of the townsfolk. Esmé was so in pain, she simply sat in a chair by their grave, rocking herself back and forth, and when it came time to it, I held her up to throw the gravel and the flower unto their grave ere doing so myself. I helped her back to her chair and sat near her, both of us sobbing hard. I was about to let Father Thomas drive us home, but Esmé stopped me asking him and whispered to me to run home with her. Whatever helped her in this time of pain, I would gladly do. I picked her up and held her to me. She insisted on not laying in my arms, but standing before me, kissing and hugging me deeply and hard as I ran. We were in the middle of the forest when I could take it no more. I stopped and looked at her. The need was so great in her eyes, I did not even think to question it. I simply took my shirt off, spread it on the forest floor for her head, laid her down on it and made love to her, both of us needing this close connection for company, to know we were not alone in our grief.

When we arose, I knew she would be alright. She righted her clothes, kissed me, made sure her hair was presentable with her hands and came closer to me as I finished getting dressed. "Shall we go home? People are probably waiting for us there already." She said. I took her home. She became a good hostess, making sure everyone was comfortable and would not slow down.

"Esmé, Sweetheart, slow down. Sit down and rest for a while. You have had a very long and tiring day, my Angel. Do not over exert yourself." I begged. She turned to look at me, smiled sadly and said, "I cannot stop, Carlisle. I will break down again if I do."

"It is only natural, Esmé. You must let yourself time to grieve properly. Not even God himself expects you to be a good hostess, or to even do anything. Please, my love, I beg of you, rest yourself. Your parents would have wanted you to care for yourself." I reasoned with her. That last part seemed to have done it, for she sat down, covering her face and cried silently, with only the occasional moan letting me know she was still crying. I had no such luxury. I had things to attend to. The guests, the dishes, the food, the flowers. There seemed so much, especially when all I wanted to do is be with my wife in her time of need, as I swore to do before the Lord God.

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1. Job 1:21.

AN: Socks off yet? I know with this kind of a bombshell, I am going to get some hate mail... I am sorry, but, as i told you, I tried to make it work some other way. It just wouldn't. I think this time I have no choice but to ask for at least 5 reviews to keep writing... Please don't hate me. This is the only way for what happens next to happen properly. That's Carlisle's assurance to me, anyway. Review, please?

See you all soon?


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Still not SM. Still do not own anything twilight-related. Still in love with this story.

AN: I think you folks should take your socks off in advance this time... I know many of you wanted this chapter to be written and begged for it, and so, without further ado, I give you - Chapter 7!

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For three days, we concentrated solely on our grief. We spent hours in front of the fire in the study, merely hugging each other for solace. We cried together, we spoke a lot of our memories and Esmé shared many of hers with me. From them, emerged the characters of her parents, one memory at a time. Esmé spoke of hard working, honest and kind people, generous with all they had. She had many memories of religious ceremonies and holidays with them, from which I gathered they were God-fearing and pious. The world, indeed, has lost two good souls that day.

It seems the Lord was crying with us, for the heavens rained without pause. Little by little, I could see Esmé's restlessness increasing into a bout of cabin fever. I would never suggest a car ride with her and running in the rain was completely out of the question, so I attempted to entertain her by reading to her, until eventually she grew intrigued enough to read books on her own. Thus, we spent the next week in my study, days on end, our nights filled with passionate love-making, arguing about a book or reading together, me sitting on the sofa and Esmé laying on it, her head in my lap and her legs on the armrest, a book in her lap and a book in my hands. I was enjoying and taking great pride in Esmé's keen intelligence. She would read a book, debate its subject with me, when she always tried to defend the book and its writer and I used my great knowledge and perfect vampiric recall to attack it. She took a great liking to philosophy and religious books. She also developed a very endearing habit of arguing aloud with the book she was reading. I would attempt to counter-argue, and even offer books to help her, but she seemed to dislike me interfering with her reading.

On the morning of the sixteenth day after we were married, Esmé woke up with a look I had never before seen on her face. She was disoriented, mumbling about a dream she had, about a man repeatedly patting her stomach, gently but consistently. And then, she got up quickly, running for the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. The sounds of retching could be heard clearly enough even to a human. She was retching and moaning for about two minutes. I almost broke the door in my haste to be with her after the first few seconds. I held her hair away from her face and applied a cold wash cloth that I hurriedly got from the sink to her forehead. When it was over, she leaned back on my chest, mumbling her apologies. She then claimed to be very hungry. I made her some breakfast, fried scrambled eggs, bacon and toast, with tea to wash it down. She finished it all in such a hurry, that I was worried she was not eating enough. "I am fine, Carlisle. It just took a lot out of me, this illness. I probably have an upset stomach. It will pass." She said, slightly agitated with my constant questioning. I relented.

We went to the study, where she immediately grabbed the book she started reading the day before and settled in my lap to read. She only read for a few minutes before she was running again. I followed her to the bathroom again. She was retching violently again. I felt so hopeless, praying to God to spare her this illness, holding her hair out of her way and applying the cool washcloth to her forehead. Again, she insisted she was fine. Another day passed like that. She was ill at least twice more that day and more than 5 times on the following day. I became so worried, that I ordered her to remain in bed, on a diet of clear fluids. On the afternoon of the third day of illness, I was in bed next to my Esmé, my head on her chest, finding the constant beating of her heart relaxing. I was looking towards her stomach, which drew my stare by gurgling loudly. I was about to go bring her more soup and tea, but then, I was shocked into absolute stillness. It moved. Her stomach moved. It was a tiny up and down motion, all but invisible to any but a vampire, and very fast, too, so fast I might have missed it, were it not for the gurgling that drew my stare. The next movement, however, was impossible to miss. Esmé's hand flew to her stomach.

My good God! How is this possible? Was this really what I thought it to be? Or was it just the illness and the gases produced by her stomach? I was stunned and still. It was Esmé who broke the brief silence with her question.

"Carlisle, it has been seventeen days since the wedding, has it not?" she asked.

"Yes." I managed to whisper. She was quiet for a while, and I knew her thoughts well. She was counting her cycle.

"How late is it, Esmé?" I asked, knowing her period was late even before she started counting, a kind of weird sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. She looked at me, confused. "Four days. But I have never been a day late. How is this even possible? You said vampire males cannot sire children."

"Lay down. Let me examine you. Let us not jump to any haste conclusions." I said, anxious, my mind working hard, trying to recall anything similar to this. I touched her stomach. The lower part of it was slightly swollen and slightly colder than the rest of her. Dear God, help us. What have I done? What have I created in my selfish need for her? Good god, how will she carry an immortal child? Would it be as the ones of old? Was it something completely new? Should I terminate this pregnancy now, before this unknown monster grows any larger? Will it hurt her? Can she survive this pregnancy? My head swam with questions. As I was touching and palpating her stomach, I felt movement again. I put my head to her stomach and listened. Esmé's heartbeat was slightly faster than normal, clear evidence of her stress. But, as I listened carefully, I heard another heartbeat. A much faster one, like the wings of a hummingbird. I felt the colder area, and it was as hard as a rock, as hard as my skin. Its temperature was closer to mine, as well. This was a total shock. She has vampire skin inside her? But the fetus has a heartbeat! Oh, what have I done? What shall I now do? But Esmé was waiting for me to answer her questions. What am I going to tell her? The absolute truth, of course. We must discuss this.

"Esmé, you are indeed with child. I hear the fetus' heartbeat. It is normal, but for a much older fetus. You appear to be on your third month of pregnancy." I informed her.

"I cannot be. I have never known a man before you, Carlisle. You know that well." She said, offended and confused.

"I know, my love, I know. But this pregnancy seems to be progressing faster than a normal one. Another issue is the consistency of the womb itself. Your stomach is colder there, and much harder than should be. I believe that is because the womb has grown vampire skin around the fetus." I explained.

"What does this mean, Carlisle? What is in store for me? And for the baby?" she asked, her hands covering her stomach protectively. I watched her change before my eyes, from my teen wife, a child in many senses, to a woman, an expecting mother, protecting her unborn child. She is pregnant. My good God, she is pregnant. My mind kept repeating those words.

"It means this fetus is an unknown, Esmé. I have never, in all my years, heard anything to rival this. I thought to this day I was incapable of producing offspring. I cannot guarantee your safety, or that of the fetus. Esmé, I do not want to lose you. I think it wise not to risk your life for this. I offer my medical services in aborting this pregnancy, immediately. I will not live without you." I told her honestly. I could not even fathom a world without my wonderful Esmé in it. She looked to be considering my offer to save her life. Then, she spoke.

"I will not kill this miracle God has granted us. I thought being a mother to be something I would never experience. Now I have this chance, I want to bring this miracle to the world. I want this baby. It is you and I. It is a proof of the love we share." She said. I grew angry. She is risking her own life! "I will not sit idly and watch you die, my love! I cannot!" I yelled. She was taken aback by the forte of my statement, but only said, "I understand this baby is an unknown, and that we must be careful, but we shall take this pregnancy one day at a time, one minute at a time if need be, and consider the risks as they weigh against this miraculous gain." I grew somber, considering her offer. There will come a time when an abortion will no longer be feasible. What, then, would I do?

"If it comes down to choosing between you and this fetus, I will not hesitate in terminating this pregnancy, Esmé." I assured her.

"I know, my love. I will not let myself perish, if I can help it. But I shall not let you kill your unborn child without due cause." She said this, staring deep into my eyes. Unborn child. Those words struck a chord within me. One I knew existed, but kept hidden, as it is never to be relieved. I had now a chance at fatherhood. I could picture little girl in a frilly white dress and ribbons in her caramel locks smiling at me, holding Esmé's hand. Oh, to have tears now, to weep for the joy in this vision. The sheer impossibility of it was staggering, but my mind kept repeating Esmé's words "Your unborn child", and it was not impossible any longer. It now seemed within my grasp. But to reach out and take this dream would be a horrible risk to my mate, my only reason for existing. My wife. My Esmé.

Suddenly, I could take this pain no more. I knelt down beside the bed and cried, "Salva nos, Pater Noster!"1

Esmé laid her hand upon my head as it was bowed and said, "He will, you will see, my only love."

I said the Lord's Prayer again and again, Esmé praying with me. I begged of God to spare her. To keep her safe and alive and in my arms. Even as she slept, I prayed still. I only stopped my prayers as morning dawned. And then it occurred to me – I prayed at Esmé's side all night. I was used to praying all night, but kneeling before something very different. I smiled at the drastic changes my world has undergone. I would not have it any other way.

With a prayer of thanks in my head, reverberating against my soul, I made Esmé's breakfast.

As rosy as that revelation at first seemed to me, Esmé seemed to be deteriorating in her condition by the hour. She paled, her face and body thinning, dark circles starting to form under her eyes as she slept. She slept for a long time. Fourteen hours of pure torture. When she finally awoke, she vomited again. She then claimed to be hungry, but refused breakfast. "What would you like?" I asked her. She seemed lost in her thoughts until I said her name. She then looked at me and said, "A nice raw steak." She never eats her meat raw, I thought to myself. The fetus is influencing her appetite. That means it needs something raw steak has that a well-cooked one lacks. It was as if a light bulb turned on inside my head. Blood. She craved blood. How can this fetus be anything good if it craved blood from the start of its life?

"Esmé, I believe it is not the meat you crave." I said. She looked puzzled for a moment, and then, the same light shone in her eyes.

"Blood?" she asked, not at all as horrified as I was by this craving.

"I believe so." I answered.

"Well, I guess I could try. For the baby's sake." She said, acquiescing.

"That is not what worries me, my love. It is the very fact that you crave it. A vampire craves blood. Not a human. That may mean something about the nature of the fetus." I said, trying to lead her gently to the conclusion that this monster must be destroyed.

"The baby has a heartbeat. You do not." She said, reminding me the fetus was not _all_ like me. And she was right. I needed only to put my head on her abdomen to hear it. Soon, I will not need even that.

"Very well, then. We shall try. One minute at a time, as you said." I relented. I did not enjoy the thought of what I must now make her do. The monstrosity of the situation was weighing down hard on me. I quickly ran from the house, at my top speed, carrying a large glass decanter. Once I was far enough into the forest, I crumbled to the ground and wept. I was so frightened. I could keep Esmé from seeing my worry, but I had to let all my pain and worry out. I must have cried for over an hour, thinking of the pain my Esmé was to go through, her deteriorating physical condition, and now, this craving for blood. I wanted to abort this pregnancy, it was not normal, nor could it ever be, with me as the sire. If she only accepted my offer for termination, Esmé would have quickly regained her health. But, of course, she would not. I was coming to an understanding of my own, little by little. If Esmé indeed had this fetus, other than the constant observation to see it does not develop into a monster, I would not only be its sire. If _it_ turned out to be relatively normal, I would be a _father_. A very deep ache within my soul pulsed at this word. As I have never thought it possible to be a father, I never actually considered the pain of the loss of said possibility. Now it was more real, I realized I longed to be a father more than anything, but I would not risk Esmé's life for this selfish want. Eventually, I straightened up. I had duties and I would attend to my wife's needs. I took the jug, running to the forest, searching for something that smelled as close to human as possible. I was lucky enough to find a bear nearby, a male, thank God. I made haste with its blood, taking it to Esmé.

I brought the decanter into the kitchen, searching for something she could drink from that would hide the contents. She needed not be horrified by what she was drinking. I came across a large ceramic mug and took it, filling it with the bear's blood and covering it with a black cloth, leaving a hole for a white tube I fashioned from the plastic vinyl cover of some wiring I found. I took the mug up to Esmé and offered it to her, advising her not to think about the contents, just take a small drag of fluid from the mug. Esmé took the mug gingerly, and took a small, tentative drag out of the straw. She swallowed, looking slightly worried.

"You do not have to drink this if it is that hard for you, Esmé. I am sure I could try intravenously." I said as I saw her face. She assured me she did not find it hard, but rather liked the flavor, a fact she found slightly odd and slightly disturbing. She continued drinking from the tube and as she did, I could immediately see a difference in her physiognomy. Her color was restored, her eyes shining brighter, her pulse, which has weakened considerably, now accelerated back to its normal level and she seemed more _her_. I told her about these changes and she said she was, indeed, feeling much better and stronger, as well, her nausea gone altogether and she felt hungry. I asked what she would like to eat, but she insisted on a refilling of her mug. "I do not think I could stomach anything else at the moment, my love." She said. I sat with her and waited for any nausea or vomiting, but there was none. Reluctantly, I filled her cup again, but she only sipped from it every once in a while, like you would from a glass of water after already having sated your thirst.

It was a beautiful, sunny day and I decided to take Esmé's mind off her current situation by taking her to the drawing room. "Come," I said, "I have a surprise for you."

"What is it, Carlisle?" she asked, excited.

"You will soon see for yourself." I answered, dragging her up the stairs. She walked beside me, a smile on her face, partly from excitement and partly, I was sure, because of my behavior. I was looking at her as I led the way. She was not thinning anymore, but gained a little weight. Her cheeks had the rosy tone I grew to love so much and her stomach protruded a centimeter more than yesterday. The change was staggering. She looked a healthy, pregnant woman now, glowing with inner radiance. We arrived at the door to the drawing room and I swept her up for a very long and passionate kiss. Then, I held the handle and said, "Welcome, Esmé, to your drawing room," holding the door open for her to walk through. A tiny "oh" escaped her lips as she walked in. She walked around the room, looking at everything with wide eyes. I had replaced the roses there thrice, already, and these new ones welcomed her with beautifully large, crimson blooms. She touched the petals gently, bending slightly to smell them. A sigh of contentment broke her lips as she walked to the easel, smiling hugely. The room was full of light, the wonderful view of the yard, the lake and the forest clearly visible in the walls of windows. The blank canvas seemed to call to her, for she then started mixing colors, getting the paints ready. Suddenly, she frowned.

"What is it, Esmé? Is the equipment lacking? I could buy whatever else you require." I said hastily.

"No, it is not that. Just… look at what I am wearing. I cannot paint in this dress! I would ruin it!" she said, frustrated. I smiled, relief and understanding washing over me. I ran to our walk-in closet and pulled an old shirt of mine and a ragged skirt of Esmé's. I took it up to her, but stopped on the stairs. I checked the skirt again. With Esmé's protruding stomach, clothes are going to become a problem. This skirt will still fit her, but she was going to need maternity clothes very soon. How would we go about purchasing them? Esmé was still early enough on in her pregnancy to escape notice under the right clothes. That would rapidly change, apparently.

And that thought stopped me, again. She was growing by a centimeter a day? That meant a week's growth per day! With the very safe assumption that she conceived on our wedding night, that put her half way through the pregnancy, at four and a half months, or 18 weeks of pregnancy, though it has been merely 19 days since we were married. Clothing was going to become an issue in about 6 more days. How could we possibly hide this abnormally fast pregnancy when she was growing so rapidly and will need larger clothes every 4 days soon? And the birth would be in only 22 more days, if we went by the 40-week model here. We were not ready for this. _I_ was not ready. I must prepare for any and all circumstances. I started making a list in my head as I brought the clothes to Esmé. I shan't worry her with such thoughts now, but we must discuss this, and soon.

As Esmé painted, I lectured about vampire nature, about our laws and history. I wanted her to be most knowledgeable and prepared for this existence, should she still choose it, or scare her away from it, change her mind. She asked questions as well, and I took great pride in the questions, for they showed a very deep understanding – not only of what I spoke of, but what I avoided, as well. She was a very smart young woman. She seemed mesmerized by my descriptions of the immortal children, of the horror they struck into the heart of every vampire and of the punishment they and those who created them were given.

"They left very deep scars in their wake, did they not?" she said, broodingly. I nodded solemnly, thinking of the Denali women.

"Will our child be the same?" she then asked. I grew somber. She must have the truth here, painful as it may be.

"I do not know, Esmé. The child, if it is to be born, may well prove to be as untamable as those immortal children. If it does, it must be destroyed before it harms anyone. Before the volturi learn of it. We must be ready for this possibility, although I very much doubt it will happen. The fetal heartbeat is a good indication the child may well be, at least in part, normal. We must hope you survive this pregnancy and see what the child grows to become." I said, as I added baby bottles to my mental list. I very much doubted that a fetus feeding on blood in-uterus will need anything but blood when delivered. The heartbeat, however, gave the impression of a true hybrid. Perhaps the heartbeat meant the child will be able to consume both human foods and blood.

"I cannot wait to see our child." she said, excitedly. "I hope the child looks like you, Carlisle. What a beautiful child it will be." She added. I felt slightly wistful as I asked her, "Would you rather a son or a daughter?"

"I would welcome either. I care not for such things, but for the child's health and wellbeing." She answered. I watched her face to gauge the truth, but it seems she was in truth completely. How marvelous. She asked me what I preferred, and I thought on the subject much, finally deciding it mattered not, so long as my Esmé was well and healthy to be with me and to be a mother for our child. I grinned broadly as I told her I cared not. I knew it to be the absolute truth.

Oh, to be able to sleep now on this sofa, as Esmé painted joyfully. To dream of our child would be so wonderful. I tried to picture the child, but could only picture a younger Esmé. I wanted to see this child, to know her, to love her as I do her older self. I have never known the love of a child in this world and I now ached for it. I sent a silent prayer for the wellbeing of both the fetus and its mother.

Esmé painted for hours on end, pausing only to sit and rest for a while at my insistence, and to take another mug of blood, although she claimed not to need it. "I am not hungry, love. I am fine. Really." She said. But then, all of a sudden, her words held no interest for me. I heard two thrumming, hummingbird heartbeats. Two _fetal_ heartbeats. She was to have _twins_. The human girl was carrying vampire hybrid twins. I fell to my knees beside her and she hugged me to her, yelling my name and demanding to know what the matter was.

"Twins, Esmé. You are carrying twins!" I said weakly. She was so shocked, she staggered a bit. I held onto her tightly, to keep her in place.

"You can hear two heartbeats." It was not a question, but a statement full of wonder.

"I can." I confirmed to her.

"This changes my assumptions on the age of the pregnancy. I thought you were already 18 days with child, for the growth seemed to correspond with 18 weeks of a singleton's pregnancy. Since you carry twins, I would say it is for 12 weeks of pregnancy only, which means merely 12 days thus far. The details of that night came to my mind, and to hers, too it seems, for she only said "Oh," blushing slightly. I quickly did the necessary adjustments to the list in my head, multiplying all necessary items by two, and worrying about where to get even larger clothes at a faster rate. I decided on shopping for all clothes on the morrow. I would simply run to a different city, now. One where I was not known, and neither was Esmé. I would purchase all necessary items there, as well. Baby clothes, bottles, blankets, cribs, toys, paints for the room, something appropriate for both boys and girls. The list lengthened, but I did not mind it in the least. I felt frightened and excited, worried and joyful, and the contrast between such emotions was draining. "I know," I said gently, suddenly very tired. I shut my eyes, but sleep would not come. It never did, in all my years of existence, no matter how much I wished and prayed for it.

Esmé resumed her painting, humming to herself now. After ten minutes, she called, "Carlisle, come!" I raced to her. She took my hand in hers, putting in on her stomach. I felt movements. I heard the heartbeats thrum and for a moment, I pretended I was as human as her, feeling my babies kick for the first time. I was filled with joy at the slight nudges I felt. For one moment, I believed all would be well. And then I remembered what I was and a feeling of dread washed over me. Hybrid twins. At the equivalent of 12 weeks of gestation, to feel the nudges meant the fetuses were very powerful. When they grow larger, what will their movements do to her? With that realization, I was truly frightened.

Trying to distract myself, I offered Esmé a walk in the yard with me. "Soon enough, you shan't be able to go out of the house. You may want to take advantage of your time now, to absorb as much of the outside as you can." I told her.

"And why not?" she asked.

"Because in another week or two, such exercise may be too much for your body to bear. You might go into early labor. You are to be on bed rest in 12 days. Until then, you may walk outside to your heart's content." I told her, ever the doctor, but now, her frightened husband, as well.

We walked to the lake, sitting on the bench. She was looking at the lake and its surroundings with a fond smile. I took her hand in mine. "I love you, Esmé. I love you more than anything else on this world, put together."

She smiled at me, caressing my face. I leaned into her hand as she answered, "I love you, my miraculous angel of a husband. I am truly blessed to have you in my life."

We stayed at the lake for a while before she requested to go to the greenhouse. As we walked, she hummed an ancient song that I knew well. I sang it for her.

"_The Sunnes cours, we may well kenne,_

_Ariseth Est and goth down west._

_The rivers into the sea they renne,_

_And it is never the more almest._

_Windes rosheth here and henne,_

_In snow and rain is non arrest._

_Whon this woll, stunte who, wot or whenne,_

_But only God on grounde grest?_

_The Erthe in oon is ever prest,_

_Now bedropped now all drye._

_But uche gome glit forth as a gest,_

_This world fareth as a fantasye."_2

"Those are beautiful lyrics. I have always liked them." I said, broodingly.

"They sound beautiful, though I cannot presume to understand more than half of them." She confessed.

"I would have been surprised if you did understand them. That was Middle English. A very ancient language. Even to me. But I have heard it sung in Volterra before. I have studied many languages, but those that transitioned the ancient Latin and German into the English we now speak are the most captivating ones." I said.

"Perhaps one day you shall teach them to me." She said, hopeful.

"I may do just that, my only love." I answered, smiling.

We arrived at the greenhouse and I settled to watch her as she worked to groom the life around her as the lives within her.

I cannot recall ever feeling such peace as I did now, with Esmé beside me. I was extremely grateful to God for every second I spent with her and could only pray that I be granted an eternity with her.

We spent the night making love and with Esmé asleep in my arms, I spent the rest of it listening to the three heartbeats in bed next to me.

The morning came, I made sure Esmé was well, brought her another mug of the bear's blood, and then told her I was leaving to buy some necessities. "I shall be back well before dark." I promised. "I want you to try and rest as much as possible. I fear leaving you alone in this time of uncertainty and I would like to put my mind at ease, knowing you are safe when I am gone." I begged. She agreed, though not without the sweetest pout forming on her lips for the knowledge she must remain indoors today. I offered her the option of painting some more and that seemed to make her happy.

I took the car this time, as I would have a lot to carry. I went to a city about 2 hours' drive away. I bought all the necessary items for the babies, bottles, cribs, carriers and blankets and as many baby clothes as I could find. I bought some diapers, though I knew not if those would be necessary. I even found a very beautiful shade of teal for the room, as well as a beautiful ancient rocking chair. I then went to the maternity section and bought quite a lot of clothes that were made, I was told, to fit an expectant mother of triplets. Those should fit our need well. I then went to a local medical supplier and bought all necessary from that end. I would need blood, too, but I knew not how to get it or where from. I could only pray Esmé would not need it. If need be, I could always turn her. I wished to God it would not come to that.

I could not have asked for more from this trip. I made my way home, satisfied in my purchases. I arrived home two hours later, a mere nine hours after I left. I could hear Esmé humming away in the drawing room and I smiled, taking the medical equipment into the study, then running back to the car, vampire speed, retrieving the babies' equipment and storing it into an empty room not far from our bedroom. The maternity clothes I hid in that room, as well, not wanting Esmé to feel insulted by their sheer size before I had a chance to explain myself and their presence to her.

I ran up to the drawing room, sweeping Esmé into my arms and kissing her soundly, murmuring, "I missed you so much!" into her ears. She giggled and said, "I missed you too, my love. You were gone for so long!" she reprimanded me. And I well deserved it, but it had to be done. It could not be helped. "I am sorry, my love, but I would like to discuss some of my purchases with you and then, if you are amenable, I will show you what I bought." I said cautiously.

I told her about the huge clothes, stating I did not, in any way mean it as an insult, merely wishing for her expertise in narrowing the garments to the correct size. She was relieved, for some odd reason, by my reassurance, and said she did not want to take the clothes in too much. She knew her stomach would grow to a fairly sizable one and did not wish to keep fixing them according to her changing size. "I shall wear a belt if need be, Carlisle. You have done well, my love."

But all that reassurance did not make me as happy as when she squealed at the sight of all the baby care equipment I bought. I made sure everything was either in white or in some acceptable shade for both boys and girls. Esmé was ecstatic, making various cooing noises at the clothes, cribs and other purchases. She more than loved the color I chose for the wall, as well. The maternity clothes, however, were a different matter. She ducked her head, but not before I saw tears streaming down her face at the sight of them.

"It is only temporary, my love. You will not grow as much, I have already told you that. I know it looks huge, but _you_ will not. I promise, my love." I said, hugging her tightly but gently to me. She cried for quite a while. So long, I almost burnt those accursed clothes. If it were not for her assurance that she was "fine", I would have burnt them already.

Curse the world for making women wish to be thin.

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1. Save us, Our Father. Latin.

2. Mediaeval Baebes, "Mirabils"

AN: I think I will go hide under the bed or something... I am not insecure about this chapter... I am not insecure about this chapter... I am not insecure about this chapter... Maybe if I keep telling myself that, it'll help...

As usual, at least 5 reviews to get the next chapter...

See you soon?


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Still not SM. Still do not own anything Twilight-related. Still in love with this story.

AN: Hey all, thank you so much for your constant reviews, they've kept me writing. I have to thank my husband, too, for his constant input on this story. His ideas don't always make it into the story, but they do help me come up with my own. Thanks, Hubby Man!

Now, I know you are all used to bi-weekly updates, but life just gets in my way sometimes. I have a final project due at school, soon, and I really must finish it... Forgive me the lengthening time between updates, please?

* * *

We were now at 35 days. Five more days, and we will be parents. I was quite beside myself. Esmé was doing well with animal blood, so far, though I was adamant that she drinks only those whose blood smells most like humans. She was doing as well as can be expected of a human carrying vampire twins. She suffered a lot of kicking from the twins earlier on, until we discovered talking to them makes them stop. After 2 days of very large bruises on my love's stomach, they seemed to learn not to kick her, to my greatest relief. I almost made her terminate the pregnancy right then, when I heard her call out in pain and say the bruises manifest. Space was, however, very tight for the twins at the moment, so they hardly moved at all. It was hard to stand by and not go insane with the worries. Esmé seemed very calm, although uncomfortable with her size. She ended up taking the maternity clothes in, although not by much. She loved the feeling of the twins inside of her, but her size was a constant annoyance for her. No matter how many times I tried to reassure her she was not that large, she still fretted about such inconsequential matters. She was restless sometimes, as well, but as I had warned her, she was confined to the house, resting as much as possible, in order not to trigger the birth too early.

"Carlisle, I want to go outside! Just a short walk. Down to the lake. That's all I want." She said, for the nineteenth time today.

"I know my love. Will you allow me to carry you there?" I answered, for the nineteenth time, as well.

"I want to walk! On my own two feet!" was her predictable answer.

"A few more days, my love. I promise." I answered. "In the mean time, please allow me to carry you to the river? I could bring your drawing pad and pencils." I offered. Her face brightened and she acquiesced. I carried her gently and carefully, first getting the pad and pencils, then, vampire speed, to the bench near the water, being careful not to jostle her in the slightest, and set her down on it. Esmé was smiling; she opened the drawing pad and stared around her before starting to paint, smiling and humming to herself all the while.

The next three days were spent much the same way. On the fourth, she asked to see the babies' room. She wanted to organize it. I, of course, had already painted it and arranged it to the best of my ability. I took her there, setting her down in the rocking chair, which now stood between two beautiful cribs, both painted a fresh white. Esmé rocked herself, hands resting on her stomach, as was usual for her since she discovered she was with child. After taking her time and checking the room, Esmé started to issue orders.

"The changing table belongs under the window." And I moved it there, vampire speed.

"The wardrobe would be of more use near the changing table. Put it to its left, please." And there it was moved.

"The cribs are better placed farther away from the door; put them near the wall over there. We do not want to wake them if we come in to check on them." Again, I moved them to where she pointed, carrying one in each hand. She looked around the room again and was finally satisfied. She ordered the windows open, the linen and crib mattresses aired on the window sills, all the toys and bottles to be sterilized and after all was accomplished to her satisfaction, she wanted to go back to the lake to draw.

When I took her to bed that night, she fell asleep almost immediately. I suppose previous nights of tossing and turning in bed took their toll on her, but sleeping with all this extra weight positioned thus was no easy task at all. I spent this night as I spent the ones before it, reveling in the three beating hearts next to me and praying fervently for the safety of them all. I had a feeling I needed to rest this night, as well, but the day after proved to be quiet and peaceful. Another day of calm before the storm.

When morning dawned on the fifth day, it brought turmoil with it. Esmé had woken up at 3 in the morning. As soon as she did, I knew why. I felt the wetness on the sheets. Esmé was at a loss for what to do. The labor pains were not bad, at first. I suggested a walk outside, which helped the contractions become regular and closer together. Along the way, it was the first time we discussed the names for the babies. Finally, we settled on me naming a male child and her – the female. She already told me the name, and it excited me to no end. When the pain increased, I filled a warm bath for her, and she seemed to enjoy the calming effect of the water on her body. I replaced the water in the tub every half hour, to keep her warm. After noon passed, the pain changed. Esmé was panting heavily with it. I do not know how, but I succeeded in convincing her to let me examine her. She was ready to deliver.

Esmé was adamant that she remains in the bath tub, and there she was crouched on all fours, panting and moaning with her pain. I moved her body in the water in circles, rubbing her lower back. It seemed to help ease the pain. She would not allow me to examine her any longer, saying the first baby was almost here. She changed her position with my aid and as she sat with her back against the tub, she reached toward me and begged of me not to look at her privates. I told her she may push the baby out if she feels the need, but she calmly assured me she did not feel it necessary. I rubbed her shoulders and massaged her head as she panted.

And then, a miracle happened. Esmé reached down and brought a baby to her breast. The baby did not cry, but took comfort from the warmth of Esmé's breast. She hugged the baby to her, kissing the baby's forehead. When she looked at me, tears filled her eyes and she presented me with the baby. "Look what we did, Carlisle. Look!" I held the baby, severing the umbilical cord with my teeth and then running over every diagnosis I could think of, but the baby seemed fine. Only then did I look to see the baby's gender.

"Welcome to the world, Benjamin James Cullen." I said, wishing I had tears as I wept with joy. I was a father! What once seemed an impossibility, my miracle wife has granted me now. My son! He was small, but perfect, with a caramel tuft of hair. His beautiful blue eyes stared at me with curiosity. I wrapped my son well and gave him to his mother, who kissed him again. "My Ben. My beautiful baby boy!" she crooned. I left them there for a moment, running, vampire speed, to the babies' room and back with the cribs, arranging them on the way. I put the cribs near our bed and as Esmé went into labor again, I placed my first born son in his crib. This time, the process was faster, and within another fifteen minutes, Esmé was hugging her second baby. I repeated the process of severing the chord and checking the baby before checking the gender. Esmé looked at me, expectance clear on her face. I smiled at her before looking at the baby. "Welcome to the world, Megan Grace Cullen." I told the beautiful baby girl in my arms. She, unlike Benjamin, had curly blonde hair and Esmé's chocolate eyes, which looked at me with as much curiosity as her mother watched her with.

I wrapped my daughter well and returned her to her mother. "Hello, Megan!" she said gently, looking at our daughter. I took Megan from Esmé as the final stage of labor began. I put our daughter in the same crib with our son. They were small enough to fit in it comfortably, and they may derive comfort from each other's proximity. Esmé seemed to be in a lot more pain than she was supposed to feel in this final stage of labor. I held her to me and rubbed her lower back, trying to ease the pain, but it did nothing. She was screaming, now.

"Esmé, you must push, now!" I ordered. She was beyond listening, though. She screamed and writhed in pain. Nearly at the end of my wits, I applied pressure to her stomach in a downward direction, hoping to help the process along. That seemed to help, for the waters of the tub turned red as the placenta and the vampire skin lining of her womb were expelled. I pulled Esmé from the water, wrapping her up in a towel, and put her on our bed. I asked to examine her and she finally consented. She was bleeding, but that was normal, and the bleeding was not heavier than any other normal delivery I had assisted with. I let her rest for a while. The babies needed to feed, soon. I did not want to risk them nursing, fearing they might bite and change my Esmé. Instead, I filled two of the glass bottles with blood and brought them to our bedroom. I looked at Esmé and she was looking at the bottles and the babies.

"May I feed one of them?" she asked, attempting to sit up in bed. I put the bottles down and assisted her.

"Are you well enough, my angel?" I asked, worried. She nodded.

"I am just tired, love. I can feed my children. Please?" she begged. How could I deny her anything? She was my miracle, and she had just given me two miracles of our own. We were parents! The impossibility of this simplest knowledge would have been staggering if not for the tiny wails now coming from the crib. I smiled as I picked Benjamin up, giving him to Esmé, kissing her lips soundly before presenting her with the bottle. She fed Benjamin and I turned to feed Megan. I sat beside Esmé on the bed, offering the bottle to the crying baby in my arms. Megan looked at the bottle, sniffed a little, and then opened her mouth to receive it.

Her mouth was full of teeth. Tiny, but all teeth were there. I was shocked. "Esmé, does Benjamin have a full set of teeth?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, he does." Esmé said, as though the fact was completely normal. When she looked at me, however, her face became worried. "He should not, should he?" she said, more than asked. I shook my head 'no' slowly. "What does it mean, Carlisle?" she asked, worried. "I have no idea." I answered truthfully.

Once the babies were fed, they drifted into sleep in our arms. I put them each in their own crib this time, and settled down near my Esmé. She cuddled next to me, drifting off to sleep herself, leaving me to process the events of this day. I arose to clean the bath tub, returning to bed once the job was completed. I was overwhelmed by emotion, watching my wife and children sleep. I prayed and wept. Wept and prayed. I was so thankful to God for these 3 miracles he granted me. A mere year ago, all this would have seemed impossible to me. I feared I would never have a mate, I knew I could never sire children. I dreaded this life alone. Dreaded the loneliness.

My Esmé turned my world upside down in the most wonderful of fashions. I was a husband and father, now. Not only was I granted a mate, a wife, to love and cherish for all eternity, but now, I had two children. Megan, although blonde, resembled Esmé more than me, though I was there in her chin and lips and even her ears and fingers. I could trace my father in Benjamin. He seemed to resemble my father very much. I smiled as I thought on the impossibility of this situation. Benjamin's grandfather died over two centuries ago. I never conceived of the possibility of passing the family genes on. But there Benjamin was. Every bit of him traceable either to my lineage or Esmé's. And there Megan was, Esmé's lineage clear on her as if she was replicated. The vampire part of them seemed obvious. They were paler than Esmé, though not as pale as I was, with their rosy cheeks and a pink hue to their skin. They possessed the beauty of a vampire, the teeth of a vampire, but not my cold skin. They were much warmer than Esmé herself, in fact. They did not exhibit the signs of fever, so I assumed this to be their normal body temperature.

My son. My daughter. OUR son and daughter.

It was three hours later that the twins woke up, demanding to be fed with small whimpers that were growing in their intensity. The first whimper woke Esmé up, but I told her all was fine, that she should rest. I went to the cribs, putting a hand on each of the babes, whispering to them to be quiet and not wake their mother up. They understood well, it seemed. I ran to get the bottles refilled. With a bottle in each hand, I raced back to our bedroom and fed them in the cribs, holding each bottle up for them. Benjamin's hands went to the bottle and held on to it. Experimentally, I removed my hand from the bottle. He held it well. "Gently, now, son. The bottle is very fragile." I told him. Vampire strength, too, it seemed. Of course, Megan had to do the same as her brother. And so, I sat and watched them feed, a very big smile on my face. When they were done, I took the bottles away and picked both babes p to help them release the air from their stomachs. Both held the weight of their heads. My God. Hours old, and they are behaving as if they were months old already. This scared me very much. If they are capable of such things at hours old, what will the future bring? Mental capabilities were one thing, but I could already see a slight change in their appearance. They were slightly larger. Only mere millimeters, but the change was there. It seems their growth rate inside their mother's womb would continue outside of it. I hoped I was wrong. I hoped the quick and harsh math I performed in my head would be wrong, as well.

By morning, I had fed the twins 4 more times, allowing Esmé her much needed rest. Being a vampire had its advantages. I was able to monitor the babies' breathing and heartbeats, their temperatures and to feed them. So far, no diaper change was needed, but that was normal. We will see a lot of changes in the house in the coming days. Diapers would not make that much a difference. Not when within 3 month, we started as engaged, got married and were now a family of four.

Other than the twins' development, my biggest concern was Esmé's metabolism. She drank gallons upon gallons of blood during pregnancy, but now she must return to a normal, human diet. I did not know if her system would tolerate it. I brewed some tea and when I came back, Esmé was sitting up in bed, still a mess from exhaustion, watching the twins sleep.

"They need a diaper change." She said with a smile. I smiled back and handed her the tea. She sniffed at it and took an experimental sip. "I missed having tea in the morning. Thank you, love." She said, and continued drinking her tea as I came into bed, hugging her and kissing the top of her head. "You are an amazing woman. You gave me not one, but two miracles. I cannot thank you enough, my angel. I love you more than anything." I said, kissing her hand. Making love to her was not possible right now, but I hugged and kissed her for a long time while the twins slept. When I heard the first whimpers, I took the twins to the babies' room, changing them and cleaning them. Benjamin fell asleep as soon as I put him back in his crib. Megan decided she needed attention. Cuddling her, I handed her to her eager mother, who kissed her and hugged her.

Megan looked at Esmé and then shocked me completely. Her eyes became focused, her face scrunching up a little, as if she was concentrating hard on something. And she was. As clear as day, the image of a full bottle appeared in my head and Megan whimpered. "Did she just do that?" Esmé asked, astounded. "I believe so." I answered. "I do not know how she could, but she obviously did, since both of us saw it clearly." I thought about what had just occurred and I knew it had to be a part of Megan's vampire nature. I told Esmé my thoughts and she asked whether all vampires have an ability. It was the perfect timing to further her education.

"Every vampire, upon being turned, retains all their traits. Some of those seem to be enhanced. Sometimes just as stronger traits, such as more compassionate or more loving, or angrier and so on. Other times, they may turn those traits into an ability. It is non-voluntary and completely unconscious. There are many possible gifts, such as mind-reading, tracking, causing pain or showing illusions through the gifted vampire's mind, falsehood detection, those are the obvious ones. Some of my friends possess those gifts. Other gifts are much subtler, such as the ability to bring your strongest desires to happen. That specific gift is so subtle, that the vampire who possesses this ability does not believe to this day it is real, though I have seen it at work a few times. She considers it good planning only." I chuckled.

"Is there any way to predict whether a person will possess such ability before that person is turned?" Esmé asked.

"Yes, through another gift. A good friend of mine, and a very close one, possesses an ability to gauge another's ability, whether it has manifested or not, though he must concentrate if he wishes to test a human." I answered, thinking of Eleazar's ability. Reluctantly, I add the next part of the thought to my lecture. "The Volturi made good use of this ability to further their numbers. Aro himself is gifted. He is able to read from your mind every thought you ever had with a simple touch of his hand on any part of your body. Marcus, another head of the Volturi, is also gifted. He is able to see the connections between people, though he uses it strictly on vampires in times of war. The Guard also possess several different abilities, such as tracking, shielding, manipulating the connections between individuals, causing extreme pain that is merely an illusion of the mind, total sensory deprivation and a few more."

Throughout this entire lesson, Megan was satisfied with her mother's company, but now came the demand, stronger than before – the same full bottle, but with a sense of urgency attached to it. She would be fed, and now! I chuckled and bowed, saying, "Yes, your highness!" before running to the kitchen and back with two more bottles of blood. Luckily I thought to bring the second, as the scent woke Benjamin up, and he was not happy about being excluded from the meal, to judge by the wails coming from his crib. I gave him his bottle and got back to the lesson at hand. I had a lot to teach my wife. I realized I had neglected Esmé's education on the subject throughout her pregnancy, not wishing to upset her, but the delivery may have gone entirely wrong, leaving me no other choice but turn her without any prior knowledge as to what it would mean for her. This is precisely what I was now hoping to prevent by teaching her.

"Never assume the vampire you face is without an ability, unless you can know for sure that they do not possess one. They may look non-threatening and hold the ability to burn you where you stand. If you know you will be facing a vampire in battle, find out all you can about them before engaging them in battle." I was pacing around in the bedroom, teaching Esmé and waiting for the twins to finish their meal.

"How does one become a vampire?" Esmé asked then.

"A vampire has venom in their body, not blood. The venom is extremely potent and helps heal the vampire's body when it is damaged. When a human is bitten, but not drained to death, the venom courses through the human's body and changes them into a vampire. The process itself is extremely painful and takes around three days and ends as the heart stops its beating. It feels as though the body is burning from within and from the outside. This pain is the strongest first memory all vampires share. We all remember well the burning. During this time, the body changes. The eyes turn crimson red, though they may change to gold after a few months of a strictly animal's blood diet, the skin pales and hardens, gaining the luminescence you see when the sun touches my skin. The senses are all magnified to the extreme, the mind's capabilities grow to such a degree that a vampire remembers everything he or she ever witnessed.

"The process itself is not easy on the vampire who bites the human, either. As our primary prey, humans' blood holds a very great pull for vampires. When a vampire wishes to turn a human, they must stop drinking that person's blood before the human is drained, or else the human dies and not even venom can bring people back from the dead. It does, however, fix every single affliction you had as a human, every scar, every broken bone, even spinal injury and paralysis.

"You awake from the change feeling a very strong and urgent thirst. It is the thirst that is our constant company in this existence. Sating it is instinctual. The body takes over, commanding itself as you search for prey and drain it. You may choose your prey, however. If I find myself in the vicinity of humans, I have trained myself to ignore the scent and pull of their blood, no matter how tempting, and seek out the animals to sate my thirst. It is not possible for a newly created vampire, a 'newborn' as it is referred to. The newborn is too preoccupied by their new senses to govern their thirst properly. They are wild, stronger than normal vampires, as their human blood lingers in their veins for the first year, and they cannot go without hunting at least once a day for the first year after they are created. For these reasons, there are those who create them as an army to fight other vampires, only to destroy the newborns once their strength has weaned."

The twins finished their meals as I finished my sentence and I quickly gathered both bottles, taking them to the sink, before changing the diapers and putting young Megan in her crib. With both twins fast asleep, Esmé asked about my own transformation. As I told her my history, I noticed she was starting to drift to sleep. I laid on the bed next to her, hugged and kissed her, bidding her a good night. "I shall continue my story for you tomorrow, if you still wish for it." I told her, when she attempted to argue. "Tonight, you need your rest. Your body must recover from the trauma of giving birth. Sleep, my Esmé." I said, kissing her lips softly.

As Esmé and the twins slept, I thought on Megan's ability. That she has an ability in the first place, means either that Esmé will have one once changed, or that the entire ability issue is not dependent upon genes. The ability itself was like the opposite of Aro's. Megan projects her thoughts and feelings to her surroundings without touch, whereas Aro must touch a person in order to read every thought the subject ever had. And what about Benjamin's ability? Megan has displayed hers, does he not have one? Is his ability more subtle than hers? And what does it mean about the nature of abilities, if one twin has them and the other does not? Maybe the ability's genes are recessive, dependent on the genes of both parents. Maybe I do not have an ability because I did not get both active parts of the gene, but only one, and Esmé has the same genetic makeup of her ability's gene. That would mean that she, herself, will not possess an ability when turned. I must, therefore, wait until Esmé is changed to form any conclusion.

As the days passed, the twins' growth rate seemed to be slowing, but only time would tell what their lives would be like. Their mental development, however, continued at the same alarming rate. They were crawling and babbling constantly, now, although they seemed to be communicating effectively with each other. Twin Speak is common enough, and I suppose they invented their own version of it. Megan could show us what she wanted, and with Twin Speak, what Benjamin wanted. They would make it into a game of hide and go seek, hiding somewhere in the house that was reachable, after I blocked the staircases, and then Megan would show us her wish that they be found. Esmé would giggle and go around the house, teasing them, only to finally appear behind them and tickle them. With their acute sense of smell, they knew exactly where their mother was, of course, but chose not to react to her quiet presence to get tickled.

After a mere month, they were already walking, but still using Twin Speak and Megan's ability. We were still running after them, but now that they were walking and running, I was the only one who could keep up with their speed. It seems they inherited the physical traits of a vampire, while the heartbeat, blood and coloring were human. They did not glow in the sun, either; instead their skin acquired a very slight luminescence that would never keep them inside on sunny days. Their physical appearance was now of a year-old toddler, although much more agile and much less pudgy. Megan's glorious blonde curls were now down past her shoulders, as were Benjamin's caramel hair. We combed their hair in the mornings, much to their disapproval, with me tying Benjamin's in a ponytail and Esmé braiding Megan's hair. When Megan showed us once that she wanted a pony tail, too, and Benjamin wished for a braid, we explained about the difference between the sexes.

"Boys get pony tails and girls get a braid, sweetheart." Esmé told Megan, as she was braiding her hair. We had had the same argument with the clothes and shoes. They learn fast, but go through every phase of childhood, it seems.

By the age of three months, they were talking. The start of coherent speech was not gradual. Like walking, it happened suddenly. Of course, it was Benjamin who started talking, as his sister was currently protesting being given a bath. "Daddy, I want a bottle, please. I am hungry." He said, looking at me expectantly. I was so shocked; I complied without delay, much to Benjamin's delight. When Megan was clean and dressed, she used her ability to request a bottle. "Use your words, sweetheart." I told her, wishing to make certain she was able to speak, as well. Megan turned to Esmé and looked at her, expecting a rebuke from her to me, but Esmé stood firm and repeated my request. "Your daddy told you to use your words, Megan."

Megan looked at me and asked, "Daddy, may I have a bottle, as well?" her beautiful baby voice echoing in my ears, I got the other bottle for her.

Feeding the growing twins was a constant struggle, as I tried to get them to eat human food and not only blood. Eggs and meat were fine, it seemed, but anything not made of those was met with scrunching noses and a very vehement and resounding "No!". The only way to get them to sample it would be to have Esmé take a bite before them. She would make a show of how delicious it was, and they would agree to taste it. Cooked vegetables ended up being tossed off the twins' menu, as they spat them out immediately after sampling them. As for the raw vegetables and fruit, they each had their own flavor. Megan would not eat tomatoes, lettuce or peaches and Benjamin refused cabbage, cucumbers and almonds. Sweets, however, were met with great enthusiasm. Esmé tended to want to allow them have as many as they wanted, indulging their sweet tooth, but I was adamant that sweets were not food and that they must first eat Lunch or Dinner before allowing them.

Slowly, blood became an indulgence for them, something they would only get rarely. They always demanded it when I went hunting and those times I did, I was happy to indulge them, so long as they did not care which animal's blood they got. They knew the difference in scents and flavors, and in the beginning would demand only predators' blood. After they began eating human food, however, even the herbivores' blood was a treat.

Mentally, they were at the equivalence of about 3 years of age, and so I began teaching them compassion for animals as it applied to vampires. As the weather was still against us, they were kept strictly in the house. I taught them about the different animals, their natures and looks and they liked to guess which animal I had been hunting according to the smells on my clothes. I quickly learned the best method to teach them was through games. Esmé said that is the nature of children. Everything is a game to them. As the only children I have met had been ill, I accepted her words. With games and play, Megan and Benjamin learned about humans, and how to behave near them, about vampires and how to behave near _them_, keeping their vampire strength and speed from them. Not that they could do anything about their looks, but that, at least, was a start.

Esmé was very upset with the twin's growth and development, and often dreamt about it at night, crying and screaming in her sleep. It was hard for me, as well, but I knew not how to cope with Esmé's grief and worries. I could not reassure her that all would be well, since I had no idea if it would. I did not wish to inform any other vampire of our predicament, lest the Volturi become involved and murder my wife and children for knowing the secret, for creating an immortal child, even if they were not ones, or for any other reason. I did not even inform the Denali clan of the changes in my life, for fear they, too, may report us to the Volturi.

I suppose patience really is a virtue, but we seem to be very lacking in it these days. Every evening, after the twins fell asleep, we would discuss the situation, but arrive at no conclusions as to what should be done. Frustration welled within and we needed a distraction. This distraction we created by planning a field trip, a small over-night hike into the woods with the twins. After two months of nearly constant rain and wind storms, a day arose with brilliant sunlight. The twins woke up early and a very eager "Daddy!" was heard, echoing throughout the house in my Megan's voice. Then, a picture of eggs and milk was sent along with the sensation of hunger. I chuckled, running, vampire speed to their room. As the twins were able to walk and run, now, the barriers were removed some days since, and I invited them to the kitchen, to break their fast. They sat, talking to each other in Twin Speak, until I gave them their food. I made tea for Esmé, and took it up to her, along with the food. Of course, the twins would not let me wake their mother up gently. They jumped on the bed, calling, "Mommy, Mommy, wake up!" and laughing.

Esmé woke up, keeping her eyes closed, until Benjamin ventured too near her. She arose, then, grabbing him and tickling him until Megan came to his rescue. I put the tray of food on the night stand, grabbed Megan and tickled her into submission. It was such a domestic picture of happiness, I was suddenly stunned into silence, full of gratitude and love. Esmé saw it in my eyes, as she always does, and held me to her, saying, "I know, my love. I know." We were both grateful for the love, happiness and laughter that filled our home with these children.

We packed food and clothes and took the twins out of the house. It was their first time outside. They were awed by all they saw, as they ran around, touching everything with their tiny fingers, giggling and playing. We neared the lake, and as every child would, they approached it with glee. They were soon running around in the water, splashing each other wildly, laughing and happy. I set the packs down on the bench and looked at Esmé, one eyebrow raised in question. She nodded, and I took my Esmé's hand, running with her into the water to play with our children. It took two hours to convince the children to come out of the lake, in order to continue our trip, but once we entered into the woods, they were silent, as if in reverie. The peace and quiet of the forest was addicting, as I knew well, and it seems our children felt the same. They ran ahead, touching, smelling and exploring quietly. I smiled and took my Esmé's hand in my own. Gradually, I needed more and more of her touching me and we walked the forest, my hand on her waist, and her hand rubbing my back. We could not stop smiling.

Evening found us in a beautiful meadow, full of grass, flowers and the sounds of our river not far away. The children were hungry, tired but happy. They ate, along with Esmé, the food we packed for them, falling asleep not long afterwards. I cleaned up the remains of dinner, and turned to face Esmé. The look in her eye stopped me short of any speech. The sheer hunger in her eyes brought me to my knees at her side. It has been too long. Making love to Esmé was gentle, but earth-shattering, as it always was. Esmé slid gently to sleep in my arms, covered in a thick blanket against my freezing form. I spent the rest of the night silently praying my gratitude to the Lord, listening, as I always did, to the three hearts beating regularly and the three sets of quiet, measured breaths around me.

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AN: As always, at least 5 reviews would make me start work on the next chapter. Hope you enjoyed this one. All my love to you, all.

See you soon?


	9. Chapter 9

AN: After quite a lengthy hiatus, I bring you this chapter, as requested by _Cris.P.C _and my darling husband, who has been pressuring me to finish it for some time now. the reason for this pressure's necessity is the lack of interest for this story. If I am wrong, I humbly apologize.

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing twilight-related, except my love for this wonderful series and its characters...

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It has been a week since we were in the forest. As Esmé was reading, the children her avid listeners, I sat on the sofa, as near her as I could, our thighs touching, and read a magazine I recently acquired in town. My mind was split between it and Esme's reading, I was thoroughly enjoying this afternoon with my family. It was a study session, literature. The children enjoyed listening to their mother reading so much, they refused to sit and read on their own, although quite capable of doing so. Megan and Benjamin were sitting on the floor, legs crossed and palms rested on their knees. Megan, unlike Benjamin, was not paying full attention to the story her mother was currently reading. Instead, her gaze shifted to the window, she looked to be day-dreaming.

"What has your interest there, Megan?" I asked as I looked at her from the corner of my eye. Esmé stopped her reading and regarded our daughter, a gleaming spark in her eyes. She was Mother Nature's child, and it seemed young Megan was, as well.

"Nothing, Daddy" was her response, as she shook herself from her fantasy world. Esmé chuckled and Benjamin spoke briefly in their private language. Megan only nodded.

"What were you thinking of just now?" I asked her.

"I was pretending to be the maid Marian and I was looking for Robin, Daddy." She answered, a hint of a blush coloring her cheeks. Esmé turned to me, grinning. As I could not reply to her knowing grin, I, instead, looked upon my little Megan, gently chiding her.

"Well, I think you may well find him if you listen to your mother telling the story. He is there, in the pages." I said, chuckling.

"Yes, Daddy." Megan answered, and went back to listen to the story.

Esmé, quite amused by the conversation we were having, went back to reading with a small smile to her delicious lips.

The children were very active and happy, but while Megan's ability continued to develop, we have yet to see or feel anything from our Benjamin. This fact worried Esmé, until I reminded her that most vampires are born into this life without extra abilities. I was one of them. She tried to pass my compassion off as an ability, but I explained I saw it only as a trait, enhanced since I was changed, centuries ago.

My mind, as Esmé read, was pondering the concept of traits and abilities. The question occupying my thoughts currently was why some vampires seem to have an ability, while others do not, or rather, what is it that determines whether or not one will even possess an ability, how do they come to be, how do they work? Those questions were unanswerable. They always were, and, I supposed, they always will be.

I did not wish for that which I was not born with, but I wished to understand how it is that while I have no special extra sensory ability, my darling daughter does. I was concentrating on those questions when a plate of cookies floated nearby, right to the hands of a very excited Benjamin.

"Megan, we do not have cookies before dinner, love. You know that well." I admonished our angelic daughter.

Her long, blonde locks swayed as she shook her head fervently, saying, "I know, Daddy. I did not levitate the plate here. I promise!"

What to make of that? My daughter did not tell lies, but who else would be...

"Benjamin," I addressed my son, suddenly awed and suspicious.

"Yes, Daddy?" He answered, looking at me with guilt heavy in his eyes.

"You, as well as your sister, know perfectly well you are not to have cookies before dinner!" I admonished him. I tried to be strict, but I was amazed at this turn of events. Did he truly just levitate the plate? All the way from the kitchen to the study? Why was he never able to do so before? Why is he able to do so now? Questions upon questions burned in my mind, and I turned toward Esmé, knowing my beloved wife would also be worried.

Esmé was looking at me, worry and relief equally coloring her face. I knew well what she was thinking. Relieved to find our son was not without an ability, and probably worried as to why it manifested at a much later stage than Megan's. I motioned for her to continue reading as I made my way to the kitchen, cookie plate in hand, to prepare their dinner, silently pondering the situation, but knowing fully well the correct and full answers to these questions may never come.

An idea occurred to me, one I wished to test, but not until the children are grown. Benjamin may well have mimicked his sister's ability. Perhaps even absorbed it. It may well be that his ability is to absorb other abilities. If that is, indeed, the case, I wished to introduce the boy to Eleazar and Kate, maybe even to young Maggie, Siobhan's newest addition to her clan. For now, these questions were to remain unanswered. I am a patient man. I can wait for the answers to come.

After the children were sound asleep, I told my Esmé of my theories, such as they were. She looked to be pondering them, considering them.

"It may well be that Ben's ability did manifest itself earlier, but we merely assumed it to be Megan's." She said. I loved that woman with all my heart and soul. She was brilliant.

"I think you may be right in your thinking, my love. It may well have been as you say." I answered her, now deep in contemplation myself. Were I not, perhaps I would not have missed her woeful sighs. She was as worried as I in this matter. Err she fell asleep, I said, "There are quite a lot of questions regarding our darling children, and such they must remain. We must be patient. God will send the answers to us in His own good time, my love." Esmé curled up next to me and fell asleep, her breathing slowing gradually to indicate deep sleep. I counted the heartbeats around me, counting my blessings as I do every night. Megan's, Benjamin's, and finally Esme's. As I was deep in thought, considering the conundrum our son presented us with today, I relaxed into the pillow, shutting my eyes to the world.

I knew not the answers, but, as morning approached, I realized our future will not change in a day, answers will not be easy to come by. I repeatedly came to this very conclusion throughout the evening and night, but could not help the endless cycle of thoughts in my mind. The wait will be very long and tedious. Quite possibly nerve-wrecking. There is no other choice in the matter.

Come morning, I was eager to put my worries aside and spend the day, which promised to be beautifully sunny and warm, with my family. I waited not for my Esmé to awaken, but set forth to the kitchen, to prepare breakfast for my loved ones. A day like this should be spent outside, and as I packed lunch for my family, I heard the squeals of delight from the nursery. A picture of the lake, accompanied by an extreme sense of anticipation, was visible in my head. I smiled and finished packing lunch while setting the breakfast table. As soon as the foul stench permeated the house, the twins appeared in the dining room.

"Good morning, Daddy!" Called an excited Megan.

"Are we going to the lake today?" Asked an excited Benjamin.

"Good morning to you, too, Benjamin." I answered, amused at his excitement, so much so that he forgot his manners.

"Good morning, Daddy." He said, bending his head. "Are we going to the lake today?"

"Yes, son. After breakfast we shall head to the lake." I answered.

By then, Esmé came down the stairs and bade us a good morning, kissing the children and hugging and kissing me.

During breakfast, the children were so excited, that they fidgeted in their seats. Esmé smiled affectionately as I shared a fond memory of her love of nature and the result of it. "Your leg healed nicely, but I recommend not attempting such a feat again, so long as you are human." I chuckled. We all laughed as Esmé prepared a basket of food to take to the lake with us and I cleared the table and washed the dishes.

After getting the children dressed and ready for our outing, we walked to the lake, Esme's hand in mine and the twins running ahead at vampire speed. We reached the bench by the lake only to see the children in the water, playing and laughing. After a few minutes, Megan sat on the side of the lake, draped in a towel, reading a book, while Benjamin, also draped in a towel, sat near her, his feet in the water, staring off into the distance.

I took a deep breath as the wind shifted and immediately stiffened. I could smell another vampire in the vicinity. "Esmé, please gather our things quickly." I said as I scanned the horizon, looking for any sign of the vampire I smelled. Seeing nothing in all directions, and understanding the source of the smell to be still a very long distance away, I ushered the children home, making them run at full speed, myself running along with them, carrying a very frightened Esmé, who, in turn, was carrying our belongings. I got everyone inside, ordering them to remain hidden until I told them otherwise. I sniffed the air again, and this time, the smell was a mite closer. Still very far away. Probably too far for me to see, yet, but I scanned around to be sure. The smell was getting stronger by the second, indicating the vampire was approaching. I could hear Esme's and the children's hearts beating frantically inside the house. Not good. I knew if I heard it, the approaching vampire could hear it, as well.

I raced towards the smell, wishing to intercept this intruder as far away from the house as possible. I slowed as I stopped being able to sense my family. The smell was very strong now, and I could see the glimmering skin of a vampire approaching. She was a fair woman. Not as beautiful as my Esmé, but none could compare to her beauty. This vampire's hair was dark, billowing behind her as she ran towards me. Her red eyes were focused solely on me and a curious expression on her face. Probably the golden eyes, again. My brain was overwhelmed, trying to decide what to say and do to get the stranger before me to disappear with no knowledge of Esmé and our children. The vampire approached me, finally.

"Hello." She said. "I hope you do not mind my intrusion into your territory. I was simply passing through on my way north."

"Not at all, although I would greatly appreciate you not hunting in the immediate region. I keep a permanent residence here and would like the status quo to remain unchanged. And, please, do not take offense, but, as I am very occupied at the moment, I would appreciate your immediate departure north in a route which will not pass my current residence. I am currently entertaining a few friends and doubt they would appreciate the intrusion."

"Why are your eyes golden?" She suddenly asked, her curiosity besting her.

"Because I feed off the blood of animals. I do not murder that whence I came from, but instead choose to do good with my powerful senses, as a healer of mankind." I explained.

"An animal drinker? I thought they were a myth, a joke told by the Volturi. I suppose this also explains how it is you are able to keep a permanent residence here." She said, amazed.

I bade her farewell and expressed my gratitude for her understanding and my wish that should she ever choose this way of life for herself, that she finds me to help her.

She nodded her head, bade me a good day and took off immediately north, in a path that would keep her well away from the house. She probably assumed I was entertaining other vampires, which was fine by me, so long as she stayed clear of the house and my family's scents. I waited a few moments and traced her steps to make sure she steered clear of the house. She did, indeed. I stayed on her track for a few more minutes, making sure she does not turn back. When I noticed I was very far from the house, I ran back. I kept my watch on the premises for the next two days, refusing to relax.

During those two days of confinement, Megan and Benjamin were highly vocal of their wish to be let outside. Esmé, however, kept them busy to the best of her ability by reading folklore and poetry, as well as nursery rhymes and poems. We both knew Megan and Benjamin were matured above the nursery rhymes' level, but they were such we deemed would benefit the children, if only for entertainment. For my Esmé, it seemed a wonderful chance to reminisce, remembering her parents, telling our children about their grandparents. She talked about them and shared her childhood memories, her eyes bright and sparkling with tears that shed every once in a while, over the loss of her parents.

I, too, shared what memories I had of my childhood, though after all these years, few but the strongest remained. Nursery rhymes aside, I dwelled on my few human memories. Though few were happy ones, that was my past, and as my father always told me, "a man must know where he comes from, to know where he goes."

Days and months passed, filled with worry, but also with studies and love and laughter. Megan took after me, it seemed, with her affinity for books and science. She would spend her days in the branches of the trees by the lake, reading at human speed, refusing to read faster for love of the written word. Our evenings were normally spent arguing over the books she read, with Megan usually choosing to attack the writings and Esmé and I, thusly, defending them. Benjamin would usually sit by us, consumed by his latest artwork. Megan showed great insight, often great enough for me to make note of her ideas for further research in the future. Our daughter would make a fine doctor one day, should she choose to follow that path.

Benjamin, while showing no such affinity for books, showed an incredible thirst for everything art. As it was Esmé's affinity, she tutored our son on his endeavors, often learning as much as him through the days they spent in Esme's art room. Together, they produced marvelous works of art, worthy of museums, though I dared not part with any. As the number of pictures grew, I returned to an old hobby of mine, building frames for the pictures. Although not quite like carving, I loved the search for just the right wood for each picture and the art in creating a beautiful frame to suit each picture. I spent a few hours a day on that, quite a few more in watching Esme and Benjamin paint, reading and writing on a desk near them, and my evenings with our entire family in the study.

As much as I wished for them not to, the days seemed to fly by, often without my notice. Though each was full of wonder, discovery, joy, love and laughter, each burnt a new memory to my impeccable mind, I looked back, alarmed at their passing, as I sat By myself In my study, watching the world through the windows, deep in thought. It would soon be Esme's birthday. I very much would like to do something special for her. She has been with me for a while, now. Not long by any means, but already, she went through much. Her parents' accident, her pregnancy and the birth of our twins, raising our children under a constant shroud of fear and worry. She deserved something special.

I battled fruitlessly for quite some time, considering various ideas, dismissing them one by one. I could not take her out for a night on the town, as the children were too young to be left alone. Thus, a night in the forest, making love under the stars, was also out. Increasingly frustrated with every passing moment, I found myself pacing the study. First at a very slow speed, even for humans, but as time passed and I still could not conceive of an idea which would be romantic and welcome, special enough for my very young wife, involving only us, while still providing adequate support for Megan and Benjamin. Finally, completely frustrated, I threw my hands in the air and gave up the notion. Perhaps a present, together with breakfast in bed and a day to herself would be adequate compensation, if I Explained the reason behind my slight.

Finally satisfied, somewhat, with this solution, I tries to think of a present that would please her above all others. Jewelry was not her taste, nor were clothes and such accessories as I have seen many women around town wear. Perhaps a bolt of cloth, then. She could make her own clothes and some clothes for the children to wear. But Esmé does not sew much.

It was my beloved Esmé's birthday today. An excellent opportunity to show her my love. Thusly, I set forth to prepare a small breakfast as I intended, but as I got to the kitchen, I thought of making something special for her. I made breakfast for my family. Esme's portion I put on a tray, along with freshly brewed tea. I then made my way to her greenhouse, vampire speed, whence I acquired a single, beautiful rose. Once back in the kitchen, I put it into a small vase which waited on the tray and carried my offerings up to the bedroom. As the smell of what I am sure was wonderful food permeated the bedroom, Esme stretched on the bed, yawning her sleep away.

"Good morning, my love. Happy birthday!"

"Oh, Carlisle, this is wonderful!" She called quietly. We should not wake the children. They shall be up soon, anyway.

"I trust you slept well?" I asked.

"Very, thank you, love. How was your night?" She asked, stretching.

"Pleasant, though lonely without you, as always, my Esmé." I answered with a smile, watching her stretching, appreciating her marvelous body as she sat up and began to eat her breakfast.

"I know your thoughts well, Doctor Cullen. Your children will awaken soon. Do not start what you cannot finish, my love." She said with a grin, covering herself with her blankets.

As the day promised sun and warmth, I suggested a day of rest for my Esmé. She shall be free to do the things she wished, while I tended our children. Esmé, however, assured me there was nothing she would rather do than spend her birthday with the children. "They are the greatest gift I could have asked for, love." To that, I smiled and kissed her forehead.

Of course, our darling children chose this moment to wake up, and both immediately called "happy birthday, Mommy!" From their room. Esmé and I hurried to the nursery, hugging, kissing and getting the children ready for the day, which was spent in games and merriment. I chased the children around in the yard, Esmé told them stories and I did, as well, sharing with my family the lores and histories of our kind.

"Are the Volturi bad, Daddy?" Asked my angelic daughter. She was projecting an image that was every bit the stuff of legends, one that I have seen in many humans' books. It was the image of a fanged monster, although my daughter added red eyes and glittering skin to the mix, making it look very much as a warped pixie. I smiled briefly. At least she kept it close to the truth... somewhat loosely, but still...

"No, my angel, they are not quite as bad. They simply govern all vampires, making sure the laws of our kind are kept and upheld. None wishes for humans to know of us, and as science progresses, that will become a greater issue, I assume." Esmé looked to be deep in thought. She knew well of the rules regarding immortal children and often fretted some chance encounter with a nomadic vampire might lead them to our doorstep. I assumed it was this very subject occupying her thoughts at the moment, though I avoided broaching the subject in front of our son and daughter.

With the current growth rate of the children, it shan't be an issue to be concerned over for much longer. What did concern me, and kept me increasingly brooding, was the question of what will become of them once they reach a stage when they look to be adults. Will their lives be cut short? Will they simply cease aging and become immortal? Will their human-like properties disappear once that happens? Will they be able to procreate? For my son, I worried not on said subject. If I was able to sire him, surely so shall he be able to sire children of his own, should he mate a human. But my daughter? As much as I disliked even thinking on the subject, I knew I shall have to face it sooner or later, if they indeed cease aging and not die so young. That thought hurt me deeply. I looked upon my children, who started playing a game amongst themselves as they noticed our preoccupation, and wished for the millionth time I was able to shed tears. As it was, I merely prayed for their safety and my entire family's continued bliss.

At a year old, the children were still growing at an alarmingly fast rate. They now looked to be at the equivalent of 3-year-old toddlers, though, as always, much less round and much more agile. Their speed and strength now matching that of any adult vampire. They happily explored the world around them on such days that my Esmé would tend her gardens. They still used Twin Speak between themselves, but were now so progressed in their mental development, that when I stopped to consider it, I was often overwhelmed. If they continued to make such staggering progress mentally, they would rival the greatest minds of all times. The phrase "Michelangelo's young heir" came to mind as I thought of Benjamin. With Megan, it was "the young Madame Curie". I had great hopes for joint efforts with my beautiful and brilliant daughter in years to come. I had great hopes, yes, plans, as well. Her insights already proving beneficial, often critical to my studies, the day she would assume her place at my side as an associate, colleague and partner is not far, should she choose to do so. Should she live that long.

No, I will not ruin this day with such thoughts. A joyous day of celebration is ahead of us, and I shall abandon all qualms for now, banish the black path my thoughts were taking, find the golden path of joy, mirth and true happiness within me as I join my wondrous wife and children in celebrating this past year and the years to come. I stood on the farthest side of the kitchen, away from my Esmé as she baked and cooked for the celebration. The entire kitchen seemed clouded with scents of apples, honey and rising dough. I smiled and sighed wistfully.

"I wish I could remember the flavor of food..." I said unto my love. "I find it so hard to believe these scents could taste good." The scents themselves were wonderful, of course, but marred by the thought of the food's flavor.

My Esmé turned to me and a smile shone on her face. No simple happy smile this was, but an impish one, full of promise of mischief. What was that woman planning? I cautiously sniffed the air, detecting only the smells I recognized before. The smell of the dough, however, seemed to be approaching me along with my devious wife. Oh. I backed away from her with every step she advanced, an apprehensive look on my face reflected off Esme's eyes. She giggled and then pouted, her lower lip jutting out in a sad plea. "Don't you love your wife anymore, Carlisle? Won't you hug me?"

How could I refuse her, even when I knew she acted thus only to force some dough into my unwilling and soon-to-be-abused mouth? I came to her immediately and hugged her, kissing the top of her head, her nose and her lips with abandon. She kissed me senseless, quite literally, and as I was about to show her the extent of my love and constant need for her, she suddenly giggled and stuffed a finger fully coated with dough into my mouth. After washing the foul substance from my mouth, I grabbed her gently but firmly and made my dissatisfaction known to her with a light growl against her ear. She giggled again and sought freedom from my embrace, which I let her have, if only for the sake of the unprepared food awaiting her small but capable hands.

I watched her at her work, humming softly and contentedly to herself. It was easy to forget her true age, at times. Even for a vampire. She always acted and thought well beyond her years. She was not even eighteen. Deep amazement and regret filled me when I remembered her age. Had I but left town after treating her broken leg, she would only now seek a husband. She would have remained a child. Her parents would live still. I am a selfish creature. I sought only the end to my anguish and spared no thought to the changes I would make in Esme's life. But how could I have known we had the potential to create life? Oh, I should have left... I knew, even as the thought raced through my head, I could never have left. I would change nothing, were I given the chance to repeat these events, except the death of Esme's parents.

Esmé arranged the house beautifully for the celebration. Flowers everywhere, a crown of flowers on the children's heads, Megan's pink, Benjamin's blue. The dining room was filled with flowers and the table with pastries, cookies and, of course, a birthday cake, all Esmé's handiwork. The twins, while Esmé prepared the house, were to play by the lake, and I got a book I had been meaning to read for some time, and took the children out, with their squeals of delight reaching easily to the house. I played with them a little, but mostly sat on the bench I had built for my love and read. My mind was everywhere at once. Minding the children, reading my book, worrying over the children's fate, regretting my selfishness in claiming Esme for myself and fretting over our required solitude, lest another intrude upon us. Perhaps I should run the perimeter of the property, to check for strangers' scents...

It was nearing afternoon when Esmé finally called us home. The twins were so excited, that they ran home at vampire speed, leaving me no choice but to follow suit. I was also greatly thrilled to celebrate the twins' 1st birthday. As we were admiring the decorations, I could smell the human food, cakes, pastries and cookies. Apparently, so could Megan and Benjamin, for they suddenly stiffened, sniffed, squealed and ran to the dining room. The cake was mounted by 4 candles. Esmé smiled at me and lit them. "Happy birthday, children." She said as she smiled warmly. The children each took two candles and blew them out, but asked, perplexed, why they got two each. "The second candle is to wish you both happiness for the year to come, my darlings." She answered, to which I added, "May it be filled with health, joy, laughter, learning, love and bliss."

About a month after the twin's first birthday, Esmé has decided it was time for her to join me in immortality. As much as I attempted to persuade her, it was to no avail. Finally, it was her three arguments that won me over. Her first and foremost was being able to live with me forever, with no fear of illness, old age or natural death. Her second was that she wished not to conceive again, feeling our family, as well as her desire for children, have been completed in full. The third was what really sealed my mind over the matter. That the Volturi will no longer have any qualms over a human knowing our secret, thus keeping her safe from their clutches forever. We explained what was to happen to Megan and Benjamin. Their mother would be in a lot of pain, but it will pass. They decided they shall remain by Esmé's side while the transformation took place. With no qualms or arguments against the matter, but with fear for Esme instilled and ingrained in my soul, I laid her down on our bed.

"Are you absolutely sure about this, my precious?" I asked her.

"Yes, my Carlisle. It is time." She answered.

"I am so very sorry for what is to transpire. So very sorry to be the one to bring this much pain upon you." I said, deeply hurting.

"I know, my love. I would not, however, have it any other way." She smiled.

"I love you all." She, then, added.

With that, I leaned over her, kissed her lips, mumbled more apologies and then, to my everlasting shame and horror, I bit her neck. Her sweetest blood flooded my mouth, her aroma stronger than ever. I forgot for an instant who I was, who she was and what I was attempting to do. For that instant, I was a predator, she, my prey, and I drank hungrily from her. What cleared my mind and saved her life, was a picture of me hovering over Esmé in my mind, broadcasted with sheer alarm from both my children, along with pats on my back from them. I finally broke through the red haze filling my mind and away from my Esmé, after sealing the wound with my tongue and proceeded to bite Esmé in as many places as I could. The last bite was different, her skin much less penetrable. It has begun. There was no turning back now.

I sat motionless on the bed, weeping tearlessly, our children hugging me for comfort. I could not bring myself to even look at my wife. "What have I done?" I kept saying over and over in my head. "What have I done to my love? I am a monster for agreeing to do this. A selfish monster." Megan, while hugging me, projected her memories, full of love, laughter and happiness. I hoped and prayed those would be enough to distract Esmé from the pain of the transformation. She was so gentle, trusting and loving and I have now inflicted such torment on her. "It was her choice." I kept telling myself, but to no avail. I am a selfish monster for agreeing and going through with it.

For two days, Esmé laid on the bed, motionless. If not for her heart beating its familiar rhythm, I would have sworn her dead. It was not natural. For two days I have had to function as a father, feeding and teaching Megan and Benjamin. I was determined to make this transition time as normal as possible for them, determined that they should not feel my anguish and the severity of the current situation. With one ear trained on the bedroom, I taught the children some natural history, starting with the time of the great Dinosaurs that once walked this planet. Megan and Benjamin sat, fascinated and charmed by the story of the great lizards. As I arrived to their cataclysmic end, though I knew not its cause, and doubted anyone will ever know, and said as much to my children, Megan surprised me with her question.

"Are there no vampires alive who had witnessed it?" She asked.

"None that I know of, or any of my acquaintances know of. As there were no humans around at the time, there were no vampires, as we now know them." I answered.

"Then when was the first vampire created? By whom? How did the first vampire come to be?" Megan and Benjamin asked, each with wide eyes, asking their questions one at a time in a very rapid torrent.

"We know not of our beginning, as none are alive who can tell us. Those ancient ones did not keep a history. None alive remembers those ancient times, old as they may be, and there are vampires out there with years numbering in the thousands." I answered.

"And when did the first humans appear?" Asked an awed Benjamin. My ears picked up on Esme's heart beating its final, frantic beats.

"That shall be the subject for our next lesson. For now, your mother is about to awaken. you are to remain here, in this room, and not come out until we come for you. Understood?" I instructed my children.

"Yes, Daddy." Answered Benjamin first.

"Yes, Daddy." Echoed Megan.

With their promises still ringing in the air, I ran to our bedroom at my top speed. I arrived in time to hear Esmé's heart thud twice, pause, thud once more and cease its beating. For what seemed like ages, there was no discernible movement from Esme. The only sounds were of the children playing, their heartbeats, birds chirping obliviously and the wind's gentle flow through trees and over the lake. I held my breath as she held hers. Suddenly, her eyes opened, startling in their crimson red color. She looked about the room with great wonder on her face. Her features, once humanly flawed with tiny scars, freckles and such, was completely clear, milky pale white with a pearly quality to it and so strikingly beautiful I could hardly tear my gaze away. She was beautiful as a human, but this beauty was taken to utter perfection by the venom now coursing through her blood. My venom. Thoughts of her beauty, perfection and even, to my greatest shame, my ever-increasing attraction to her, swam through me, threatening to cloud my vision. My knees felt unstable and weak and finally I succumbed to their demand and dropped to my knees before this goddess.

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AN: Your reviews, PMs, Emails and all else would be most welcomed and appreciated. I will, at this time, request, as usual, a minimum of 5 readers' requests to continue writing...


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